


packs aren't always of the same species

by knenok95



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Doc isn't...normal?, Dolls doesn't die ever, Dolls is still a lizard dragon thing, F/F, F/M, Not Really Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, Werewolf AU, Werewolf Nicole Haught, WynHaught brotp, eventual wayhaught, park ranger au, there's some violence obviously and blood and it's kinda gross
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-17 03:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13068429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knenok95/pseuds/knenok95
Summary: Nicole Haught is a park warden peace officer for Purgatory National Park, with a special sort of...animalistic advantage that helps out tremendously in her line of work.PNP is an odd patch of tree covered land in Northern Canada that houses the Ghost River Triangle, a legend of itself to Purgatory’s residents, outside of the park.  Haught patrols these woods with three very different people she happens to call her friends.After a recent spike in weird happenings, seeming to only happen within the boundaries of the GRT, everyone is left on high alert, taking extra shifts and working overtime to avoid any mishaps with campers.  Sooner rather than later, Dolls decides to call in an extra set of hands, well-versed in all that is Purgatory (including the infamous Ghost River Triangle), for help.  Except this extra set of hands just happens to be the extremely beautiful younger sister of one of Haught’s best friends.  And Haught happens to be extremely gay.





	1. rotting fruit and gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a thing. Why? I don't know.
> 
> I'll add characters and tags as they become relevant and the National Park Service radio codes used in the chapter are listed in the end notes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole comes across something strange in Purgatory’s woods that has her wolf in a tizzy and lands everyone else in a state of panic.

Finding oddities along one of the many trails going through Purgatory National Park was a daily occurrence for you, but you always found a way to blame the natural things - like, _bears got a hold of it_ , or _that was just the wind that touched your shoulder - no big deal -_  or _those darn idiot campers sure got rowdy last night haha they got you good_ , or _your so-called friends are just pulling a prank on you when they’re supposed to be stationed at least 50 klicks in the opposite direction, logic be damned_ (basically things that could be easily explained away just so you could sleep soundly at night and the other being inside you would be able to rest easy just as well, which was a rarity nowadays because she constantly seemed to be on high alert, literally 24/7) - then you would be on your merry way and everything would be back to normal.  Or as normal as it could be in a place called Purgatory.

 

It was currently mid-December, a sort of off-season if you will (no one in their right mind _chose_ to go camping in the midst of winter in Canada) and everything had been oddly serene for the better part of the month and you didn’t like it.  It was too _children’s storybook_ for your liking, you were half expecting to stumble across a cabin made of gingerbread any day now and the uneasy feeling in the middle of your chest gradually grew the longer the calm lasted, uneventful, yet terrifying.  You tried to stifle the rising panic of your canine counterpart, but your attempts were futile at best.  She was too wound up and intensely coiled, ready to strike, claws first, at anything that moved, at a moments notice.  The human in you felt it too, in the way the goosebumps on your skin formed or how the hair at the nape of your neck bristled as you ventured further along the new route you chose to patrol that morning.

 

There was a pretty decent amount of snow that managed to build up over the frozen ground the night before; a winter storm that lasted nearly 12 hours ripped through Calgary like a knife through butter.  It didn’t bother you, practically being your own space heater and all.  You only wore the standard winter wear so you didn’t look suspicious if you happened to come across any civilians.  But you briefly wondered how your human companions held up through the night with their roaring fireplaces and blanket overkill, but then again, the ranger cabins weren’t heated, so you couldn’t blame them.  You made a mental note to check in with Wynonna and Eliza to make sure you didn’t need to go thaw them out.  Unless Dolls already handled that.  You wouldn’t be surprised.  He had a tendency to make sure at least Wynonna was _thoroughly_ warmed.  You made the mistake of trekking out to her cabin after a particularly chilling discovery kept you from wanting to be anywhere near your own cabin, and caught Dolls just as he was leaving.  The three of you didn’t mention it again after you watched him take off through the woods on his ATV.

 

You were caught up in your head space and too distracted by what was probably the only time you’ve ever seen Dolls blush to notice the wolf’s unease surpass her usual heightened alertness.  You only noticed when she practically started vibrating with anxious anticipation and finally got your attention by releasing a small yelp, followed by a low cursory growl that ripped from your throat without warning.  You had to physically cover your mouth and bite your tongue to muffle another one from escaping.  Normally, you wouldn’t be so stifling, but there could be campers nearby and you didn’t need to explain _that_ to a few teenagers trying to “rough it” in the Canadian backcountry.

 

But then you smelled it, the wolf noticeably on edge, _forcing_ you to pay attention and use your heightened senses.  Your hands immediately went from resting gently on your utility belt, to one hand on your firearm, the other on your radio attached to your shoulder.  What you smelled wasn’t natural.  At least, not anymore.  There was something else there, something under the smell of death and...something else.  You paused along the trail and listened.  Trying to hear any sign of birds wings flapping, flying overhead or twigs snapping under a paw or hoof, or critters running through the snow, or even a howl of some sort.

 

You didn’t hear anything other than your own heartbeat and labored breathing.

 

“Earp, Dolls, Shapiro, 10-12.  I’m just inside the North border of the GRT.  Something up here doesn’t seem right.  Over.”

 

_“Haught, if you radioed in every time something ‘didn’t seem right’ we’d be running all over the damn forest like pixies.  You got any specifics?  Over.”_

 

You rolled your eyes and chose not to respond.  Shapiro was a good ranger, but sometimes her mouth was just as bad as Earps.  No wonder they got along so well.  Moving closer to the smell now seemingly taking over your nose, you noticed the wolf growing more and more agitated with every step.  You’re sure the fur on your back would be standing straight up if you were in form.  The smell wasn’t _unpleasant_ per se, it was just... _odd_.  It was definitely something you wouldn’t usually smell in the middle of almost 10000 square kilometers of dense forest, at least 18 klicks from the nearest service drive.  It was almost like burning flesh? - But not human.  Definitely not human. - And rotting fruit??  Peaches, maybe?  And that better not be gasoline.

 

_“Shove it Shapiro.  Haught, standing by for further information.  Over.”_

 

_“She’s not wrong…”_

 

_“At least Earp has my back.”_

 

You had to turn down your radio to concentrate.  The smell was so strong it was making your eyes water and you could tell it was just around the corner.  You needed all of your wolves senses working solely on not getting you killed.

 

You drew your gun as you rounded the bend in the trail and immediately your eyes fell to the source.

 

And the wolf _snarled_.

 

_“Will you two shut up?  Anything, Haught?  Over.”_

 

_“We’ll shut up when you get that giant log out of your ass.”_

 

_“Took the words right out of my mouth, Shapiro!  Virtual high five!”_

 

_“You both just high fived the air didn’t you?”_

 

_“Yes.”  “Yes.”_

 

 _“God, we work with children.  Haught, status update,_ **_now_ ** _.  Over.”_

 

You immediately surveyed the area, circling in a cautious circle, gun pointed in front of you at nothing but trees and cold air.

 

In the middle of the trail was a perfectly severed polar bear head.

 

Which was weird in and of itself, there weren’t any polar bears in this region.  Like at all.  Not one has ever been reported in the Ghost River Triangle, let alone Purgatory National Park.  Grizzlies, yeah.  Black bears, definitely.  But polar bears?  Not the fuck in these woods.

 

It’s not entirely impossible though.  Maybe it got desperately hungry and needed a new hunting ground.

 

That could be explained away.

 

But, there was no blood.  Not even a drop.  The bear’s fur wasn’t even stained red.  You would’ve thought it was fake, if not for the damned smell, which now that you thought about it, didn’t make much sense either because the head wasn’t rotted, like at all.  It looked entirely too fresh.

 

As you stepped closer, gun still drawn in one hand, you got your baton from your belt and inspected the head further, with the other.  

 

At the severance, there was no raggedness, or rough edge usually common with a kill.  Everything was perfectly intact.

 

It was weird because you’ve come across wolf, bear, coyote, cougar, any and every type of predator kill, even some a hot second after they occurred, throughout your years in the parks system.  But this wasn’t anything like that.  The head was completely uneaten, untouched - eyes, tongue, teeth, nose, snout, everything intact, not a hair out of place on the polar bears head.  Even the usual birds hadn't touched it yet.  No caching, no scat common with scavengers.  Placed right in the middle of the trail, _exactly_ , almost like careful measurements were taken to find the precise spot where the center was.

 

But again, **no blood**.

 

And that seemed to bother you more than anything.

 

Because even a human doing it made no lick of actual fucking sense.  No human would be able to get that close to a polar bear in the first place.  Even if they managed to kill it first, the amount of blood that would be left on the ground after decapitating it would be massacre amounts.

 

_“Nicole I-Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Haught, I swear to every god ever, if you do not answer right now, we are calling this in and sending in the cavalry because if you’re dead me and Earp can't make dog jokes-”_

 

“Sorry!  I’m fine!  I’m fine, I just-  Sorry, there’s a...um a 10-45?  Over...”

 

_“A 10-45?  Really?  Haughtdog are you kidding?  You made it sound like you were-”_

 

You were trying not to freak out, but you were freaking the fuck out.  You couldn’t shake the feeling of there being something that you were very _clearly_ missing.

 

“It’s not just a regular 10-45.  It’s a...there’s a fucking _polar bear_ head in the middle of the trail and there’s no blood and the fucking wolf is going absolutely fucking insane right now and I don’t know what to do I’m freaking out and the fucking _smell_ , you guys have no-”

 

_“You mean, I can finally call a 10-11?”_

 

_“Not now, Earp!  Haught you need to calm down, I’m heading back to the cabin now to get the snowmobile and I’ll be headed your way.  Send me your exact coordinates.  Earp, Shapiro, meet me there.  Over.”_

 

You never heard their responses, of which you were sure were some snarky, sarcasm dripping, remark about how you couldn’t handle a fucking animal carcass call.  Because as soon as you mentioned the smell, it was almost as if you were drowning in it.  The last thing you remembered was the wolf warning you about _something_ before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NPS Codes:
> 
> 10-12 - stand by  
> 10-45 - animal carcass  
> 10-11 - dog problem


	2. dognapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole wakes up and the wolf is not happy.

If the wolf could physically talk, she’d probably be telling you you were a fucking idiot.  And you’d take it.  Because you agreed with her, completely.

 

You _did_ pretty much walk directly into a trap that she was literally warning you about for _days_.   _Weeks_ even.

 

But whatever, it happened.  Someone took you.  Kidnapped you.   _Dog_ napped you.  (Wynonna would’ve got a kick out of that one.)

 

You were just as pissed as she was.

 

And in just as much pain.

 

Of course, you figured silver would hurt because, ya know, _werewolf_ , but you never expected it’d hurt _this_ much.  You might as well be on fire for all you cared, you’d actually probably prefer the fire.

 

No one ever told you what to expect.  You never had a traditional pack, never had a mentor or a teacher to help you after you were turned.

 

You were bitten, you were left to die, you didn’t.

 

You killed someone.

 

You locked yourself up.

 

You took care of it.

 

That was your story.

 

And only Shapiro, Dolls, and Earp knew anything about it.  And they didn’t even know the majority of it.

 

Now though, it seemed you’d have to add one more person to that list.

 

If you could even call him a person.  He was more of a sadistic asswipe with an ancient Greek weapon kink than anything.

 

You were laid bare, in only your black sports bra and compression shorts, in a basement somewhere, under horribly bright fluorescent lights (really?  He couldn’t have gone for the LEDs?  Save the planet a bit while trying to torture one of its inhabitants?), strapped to a cold metal table, large enough for your wolf’s full form to lay on, bounded by silver lined straps around your wrists and ankles, a tube of _something_ flowing into your veins, and a mask over your nose and mouth that you’re assuming - hoping - was oxygen.  You couldn’t really move (so you’re not sure why the straps were necessary, other than to irritate the shit out of your skin), your brain was a little fuzzy, and the wolf was almost entirely dormant and you think maybe that was due to whatever was attached to the IV drip in your arm.

 

How you got into these situations was beside you at the moment, but you had an inkling it had a lot to do with your furry friend.

 

The man spoke with a thick Londoner’s accent and had an obnoxiously curled tuft of hair covering his top lip, thick eyebrows, and he wore a top hat and a trench coat that reached his ankles over a white button up, vest, and tie combo.  It was all too much and you almost burst out laughing at the prospect of being kidnapped and silver-tortured (was that a thing?) by a magician, half expecting him to pull a white rabbit out of his hat and tap a wand to it to make it turn into a dove or some shit.  But then he pulled over a cart and opened a black leather bag of knives and daggers and saws and _‘magician’_ didn’t seem so funny anymore.

 

When he actually started using said knives and daggers, you were entirely convinced he wasn’t a magician and there weren’t any cute furry animals hidden safely in the lining of his jacket.

 

It was weird, the way he would use the weapons and where.  He wasn’t trying to kill you, otherwise he would have already.  It was almost as if he was doing research and testing out the weapons to see how much damage they did or how much pain they induced.  He only always used one once, never stabbing or cutting into your flesh more than necessary to get the information or observation he needed before taking note and writing it down in a leather-bound journal.  Somehow that was worse.

 

You were a guinea pig for a Jack the Ripper wannabe that only seemed to be after lycanthropes, if the pure silver _everything_ was any indication.

 

“Now, this one.  This one is my absolute favorite, Miss Haught.”

 

Oh, and he knew your name.  Fantastic.

 

Although it _was_ on your uniform and in your wallet, you just didn’t really peg him as the type to get to know the person he was planning on strapping to a table and stabbing multiple times.

 

“Why’s th-at?”  You weren’t happy with how weak you sounded, or the way your voice cracked, but what else did you expect after screaming for the last hour or day or however long it had been.  Time seemed to move slower when you couldn’t sleep or see the sun or **_move_**.

 

He moved so you could get a better view of the dagger in his hands.  If it wasn’t about to slice through your flesh, you’d think it was actually beautiful.  It was nearly the size of his forearm in length and the blade, impossibly sharp, was decorated with golden symbols, none of which you recognized, but mesmerizing nonetheless.

 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?  The way the light reflects off the gold here.”  He ran his fingers over the blade, careful to avoid the edge, not wanting to cut himself.

 

 _She_?  Really?  Why were all murderers so _creepy_??  You didn’t get to dwell on it though, his cool hands soon met the feverish flesh of your stomach as he mentally mapped out where he wanted to pierce the skin.

 

He chose a point just below your sternum, slightly to the left, the blade tilted at what you assumed was a precise and calculated angle before he pushed just the slightest, working the blade through your epidermis then your muscles and grazing along the cartilage of your rib cage and he didn’t stop until the tip of the blade was just pressing into the fragile lining of your heart, his eyes never leaving yours as the silver burned through your chest.  You didn’t dare breathe or make a sound for fear of your diaphragm or lung being nicked by the blade.  You tried to will your heart to slow its beating, your eyes watering, lips trembling.

 

You weren’t ready to die.  You were 26.

 

This was the closest you had been to death since you were turned and that was nearly three years ago now.  That was a pretty good track record, in your book.

 

“Miss Haught, you’re looking a bit pale.  And...And _sweaty_.”  He gave you a disgusted look as he spit out the last word, curling his lip, as if he felt like you were a disgrace for being in pain, before he slowly dragged the dagger from your chest, along the exact path it had entered.

 

“Im-magine that,” you cried.  And it was a cry.  More of a broken sob, really, as you gasped oxygen back into your lungs.

 

He wiped the blade on a blood stained cloth he had lying next to his leather bag of tricks.  He didn’t give you much reprieve before pulling out his next weapon of choice.  Which turned out not to be a weapon at all, in the traditional sense, but when used _improperly_ , you’re sure could do a lot of damage.  It made your inhumanly hot blood, run cold.

 

“I want to try something.  I do hope you understand.”  He sounded almost apologetic as he pressed the sticky electrodes to your skin, one placed under your left breast, the other to the upper right of your chest.

 

You found yourself shaking your head, as if that would persuade him not to continue.  You knew it would have absolutely no effect, though, and as he charged the defibrillator your wolf seemed to become more alert.  As he was reaching for the button to initiate the shock, you realized you could move, but didn’t have time to dwell on it much before a shock was sent straight through your body, your back jumping slightly off the table before thudding back down as tears sprung to your eyes and your toes and fists uncurled.

 

You weren’t really sure what he was trying to accomplish with that, it didn’t make your heart stop like it probably would’ve caused a humans to, it only seemed to make the wolf angrier.  She was practically raging to be let out, but you tapered her down and tried to sooth her as best you could, but you were panicking.

 

He made a few adjustments and charged the defibrillator again before he jotted down a few notes in his journal and pressed the button a second time, without any warning.

 

It hurt, you’re not gonna lie.  It was definitely worse than the first time and seemed to last longer, your vision even went a little fuzzy.

 

“Interesting.”  You didn’t really want to know what he found _interesting_ about shocking a perfectly fine heart.

 

You didn’t notice him making more adjustments and recharging the device, but before you knew it he was shocking you again and again and finally something snapped.  Maybe that was what he was waiting for.

 

You got your confirmation when you caught a glimpse of a childlike grin take over his face before the wolf took over.

* * *

 

When you came to you were naked and covered in blood and not all of it was your own.

 

You could vaguely hear yourself crying.  Your entire body was shaking from exertion and pain and so many different emotions.

 

You were too exhausted to move, so you didn’t, instead choosing to survey the room you were in now that you could.

 

The man, or what was left of him (he didn’t really look like much of anything other than a mess of blood and chunks of flesh and ruined cloth), was on the floor next to the table you had been strapped to.  His instruments were flung in every direction, sprawled across the floor.  You noticed his journal was ripped to shreds in a pool of his own blood and even his coat was in tatters.  The wolf really didn’t mess around.

 

You caught yourself staring at the remains of the man more than once before your ears picked up on footsteps somewhere above you and you instinctively pressed yourself into the wall at your back as much as you could.  Trying to make yourself smaller, you drew your knees to your chest, ignoring the way the blood made your hands slip and your short red hair matte to your cheeks.

 

The wolf wasn’t nearly as concerned though as the footsteps overhead neared what you assumed was the only door leading in and out of the room.

 

A few quiet beeps later and a “Haught?” was shouted down a set of stairs, followed by a pair of out of uniform black combat boots, a pair of long legs, an outstretched hand with a gun gripped in its palm, and finally a mass of dark curls that you never thought you’d be so damn happy to see.

 

“ _Wynonna!_ ”  The desperation in your voice terrified you.  You don’t remember yourself sounding so… _scared_.

 

Her eyes immediately snapped to yours from where they were checking out the mess of a man you left behind before she holstered her gun, said something into her mic on her shoulder and made her way towards you, careful not to slip in any of the fluids on the tile floor.

 

“Hey there, Haughtstuff.”  You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to hear that stupid nickname, you could’ve cried.  Actually, you probably were, but you couldn’t tell if the wetness on your cheeks was from tears or blood.

 

Once she was crouched in front of you, Wynonna removed her backpack from her back and took out a thick wool blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, more for decency’s sake than for warmth and you wanted to thank her, but you were too exhausted to really do much.  You could barely help her lift yourself up and when you went to take a step forward as she took a cautious step back, your legs immediately buckled underneath you.  You found yourself being tucked into a warm chest though and lifted into strong arms as your eyes closed.

 

The last thing you heard before finally losing consciousness was a soft, “it’s okay, Nicole, I’ve got you, rookie.  Let’s get you out of here,” whispered just above your head and you couldn’t help the minute twitch of your lips at the use of your first name from the Earp’s lips.


	3. not ok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole starts to physically recover.

When you woke up again, you half expected to be strapped to another table, a half crazed lunatic looming over you with silver weapons and a crazed look in his - or _her_ , you suppose - eye.  When you opened your eyes just enough to check, you found you weren’t, thank the gods, but your heart still hammered in your chest at the mere thought.  It wasn’t until you became aware of the familiar smell of leather, strong coffee, and campfire smoke that you finally calmed down, just enough to realize you weren’t in any immediate danger, but still very much in pain, before you drifted off again to the sounds of a quiet motor and the gentle rock of a motor vehicle over uneven ground.  You might’ve also felt a hand in yours, but that could’ve been your imagination.

 

The next time you were conscious enough to know half of what was going on, you found yourself sitting on a cool tile floor, your back against a fully clothed, warm body with an arm around your waist, holding you up while a steady stream of water rinsed the blood and filth from your skin and hair.  The water was remarkably warm and you relished in it, letting yourself succumb to sleep once again, your head against a damp shoulder.  You didn’t bother opening your eyes, you were too tired to anyway.

* * *

“32 hours.  Almost _32 hours_ , Dolls!”

 

“I’m aware, Earp.”

 

“You don’t think that’s a _bit_ too long for her to be out?!”

 

“Her body and mind are recovering from a serious trauma-”

 

“Will you two shuddup?  Some of us‘re tryin’ t’ sleep.”  Your voice was thick with lingering torpor and weak from lack of use, but you managed to get out what you hoped was an intelligible sentence as you attempted to sit up in the surprisingly comfortable bed (at least you weren’t strapped to this one).  You didn’t get very far, your head immediately swimming and your stomach protesting the movement, before you gave up and fell back against the pillows with a grimace and a groan.

 

“Haught _damn_ you made it!”  You couldn’t help but quietly chuckle, despite the pain, as Wynonna stepped forward and went to crush you in what you were sure was about to be a bear hug before she stopped herself and, almost hesitantly, lightly tapped you on the head a few times.  You rolled your eyes lightly, not really having the energy to put any real snark behind the action.

 

“What, you thought I was gonna die?  Come on man, gimme some credit.”  Wynonna only shrugged before stepping out of the way as Dolls took her place in front of you.

 

“In my defense, you’re like _super_ pale-”

 

“If the next thing that comes outta your mouth is a ginger joke, ’m never talkin’ t’you again.”

 

“Whatever, _Red Rover_.”  Wynonna didn’t have a problem with rolling her eyes so hard you could practically see them rolling right out of her head and out the door.

 

To cease further banter, Dolls blocked your line of sight to Wynonna by placing his body in a more direct path at your bedside as he gave you The Look™.

 

“How’s the pain level on a scale of one to ten?”  His voice was authoritative, but it was anything but cold.

 

Straight to business then.  Although, it usually was with him.

 

“Like, a 4…?”  A lie.  A complete lie.  You could feel every mark that man made on you and they all seemed to _burn_ relentlessly, but you thought maybe if you told yourself it was a four then your brain might actually believe it.  It wasn’t really working.

 

“ _Nicole_.”  He always could call you out on your bullshit.

 

“Okay, fine, 7,” you mumbled.   And as if your body needed to prove itself, a wave of sharp pain shot through your entire frame at once, the receptors at your wounds so intense, your eyes actually watered, causing you to wince and grip the light blanket draped over you, gritting your teeth.  “Maybe an 8.”  Or a nine.

 

“Not surprising.  You had silver poisoning.  There was an alarmingly high percentage in your blood when we tested it, I’m honestly surprised you made it to this point.  We managed to pull off a blood cleansing of sorts and we got it down to almost nothing, but we’ll have to perform another later today or tomorrow.”

 

“Sounds _delightful…_ ”  You heard Earp let out a snort, but Dolls ignored your blatant sarcasm and pulled a small light pen from his belt before shining it directly into your eyes, without warning, and holding up the index finger of his free hand.  You blinked a few times, focusing on his finger and trying to ignore the burning of your irises.

 

“Your wounds are healing, slowly, but they’re not infected, so that's always good news.  You’ll probably want to stay in bed and rest until they’re fully closed up.”  You only nodded, watching as he clicked off the light and returned it to his belt.  He knew full well just how much you would _not_ be staying in bed.  You’d probably blame the wolf if he said anything about it, she tended to get stir crazy if you stayed in for more than a day or two.  “I’m going to give you something more for the pain and take another blood sample to send over to the lab to have Jeremy test again.  Hopefully when you wake up the rest of them will be here and we can go over what happened.”

 

“The rest of them?”  The wolf perked up at that.  You weren’t totally thrilled with the prospect of sharing your dirty little secret with a bunch of strangers, including this _Jeremy_ fellow.  You kind of just wanted to take a proper shower, get out of the regulation hospital gown that felt like one ply toilet paper and into some sweats and let the both of you rest for the remainder of the day before getting back to your routine in the morning.

 

“I called in back up.  Trusted colleagues.  This isn’t as unusual an event as it seems, there’s something else in the works here.  You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  And also just the species he was looking for.”

 

“Can’t wait.”  Unfortunately, you didn’t really have a choice in whether you wanted to actually meet them or not.  Normally what Dolls said was rule.  You’re just lucky you agreed with it... most of the time.

 

With nothing else to say, he left you with Wynonna, who had previously been lounging in a cheap plastic chair, her boot clad feet propped up against the foot of your bed, twisting the necklace she always wore around her slim fingers.  She was oddly quiet for Wynonna.  You were surprised she didn’t make any protest to having strangers in her presence.

 

“Welp, looks like that’s my cue.  He’s probably going to want to replace the bandages or whatever on your stomach and I’ve seen your perfectly perked boobs enough for a lifetime, so.  Tell him I’m patrolling the grounds with Shapiro or some shit, I need a nap.”  With a lazy salute, she stood from the chair and made her way to the door.  She barely got her hand to the doorknob before you stopped her with a half choked grunt.

 

“Wyn…”  You wanted to thank her.  The two of you had been through a lot together ever since you transferred to Purgatory.  She saved your life, in a way, whether she chose to acknowledge said fact or not (most likely _not_ ).  When she turned around, you were sure there were the beginnings of tears in your eyes (and maybe hers), but you ignored them.  You opened your mouth to get out what you thought you wanted to say, but she stopped you before you even had a chance to stumble through a thank you.

 

“No need to get all sentimental and what not.  I know, Haught.”  If a few tears escaped and started rolling down your cheeks, Wynonna didn’t mention it, and you’d just claim it was the whole getting kidnapped and tortured thing, which it kind of was, but she was also there for you and that meant a lot..  She cleared her throat before continuing.  “I’m just glad you’re not dead.  We had to call Lonnie in to pick up your slack and he’s a total nightmare.  We basically _had_ to save you or we’d be stuck with _that_ dufus.  We like the you dufus.”  You figured that was her way of saying you meant a lot to her as well.

 

“Love you too, asswipe,” you mumbled as a response, too afraid of the emotion in your voice to say anything more.

 

“Yeah, yeah, get some rest, Cujo.  I have a feeling this is gonna turn into a shitshow when you wake up.  Wait until you see what we got from that old timey bastard.  We’re gonna have our hands full for a bit.”  You didn’t get a chance to ask what exactly they found out before Dolls was making his way back into the room with a tray of instruments and a pair of latex gloves and Wynonna was slipping out the door.  She never was one for showing much emotion.  You turned your attention to Dolls as he placed the tray in his hands down next to you on the bed.  You wiped the back of your hand across your cheek to get rid of any remaining tear tracks.

 

“Those aren’t pure silver, are they?”  He didn’t appreciate your attempt at a joke, choosing to ignore it completely and instead slipped his hands into the blue gloves he brought with him.  “Should I start calling you Doctor Dolls?”  You tried again.  His mouth didn’t even twitch.

 

“Not if you want that promotion coming up,” he grunted, expertly inserting a syringe into a small bottle of clear liquid, breaking the seal, before slowly pulling back the plunger all the way and removing the needle.  You watched him place the empty glass bottle back onto the tray and push the plunger until there wasn’t any air left in the syringe, a small drop escaping the point and rolling down the needle.  He gently tapped the body of the syringe with his middle finger, eliminating any air bubbles.  Only then did you realize what he said.

 

“Wait, I’m up for a promo- shhhhiiiit!  What the hell, Dolls?!”  He hadn’t given you any warning before he stuck the needle into your prone vein at the crook of your arm, with practiced precision.  It burned a bit at first before you started to feel the effects of whatever it was.  Your head grew heavy, while your limbs quickly followed suit as he emptied the syringe directly into your bloodstream.  You vaguely registered your head falling back against the pillow and your body feeling as if it was sinking into the thin mattress beneath you.

 

“I did say I was going to give you something for the pain.”  You could only hum in response, your eyelids already heavy and drooping.  The wolf was right there with you, barely hanging on to consciousness.  You think he probably gave you one of the tranquilizers he kept handy just in case your wolf problem got out of control.  She must’ve figured she was in good hands though, because she soon stopped fighting and you went with her into the dark.

* * *

 

_“Stop squirming, love bug, you’re going to make me miss spots and then you’ll be sorry when you’re burnt to a cute little crisp and have to be stuck in the tent while everyone else is having fun in the water.”  Your mother was valiantly trying to apply sunscreen to the bare parts of your back, but your six year old self wasn’t having it._

 

 _“But_ momma _, it’s not even sunny.  Why do I need sunscreen?”  You were scowling as she turned you around, squirting more of the cold goop into her hands and wiping it onto your cheeks and neck, getting it into your braided hair._

 

_“Because, Nicole, the sun can still get you even when the clouds are in its way.”  You rolled your eyes, not believing her.  How could the sun get you if it wasn’t even out?_

 

_“Hailey didn’t have to put sunscreen on,” you pointed out, glancing out the open tent flap at your sister, lounging on a towel spread over the sand of the small beach, a pair of large sunglasses over her eyes._

 

_“Well, when your sister looks like a lobster, I give you permission to laugh at her all you want.”  That seemed to satisfy you for the time being, a small smile breaking out across your face._

 

_Hailey as red as a lobster?  That was some funny stuff._

 

_“Do I hear complaining in here, Private Peanut?”_

 

_“No, sir, no!”  You half giggled through a salute as you stood as straight as you could, your hands clasped behind your back just like you saw your father do many times before.  He stepped into the tent, bent at an awkward angle so that his head didn’t hit the top._

 

_“No?”  He glanced skeptically at you before he turned to your mother, who was barely holding in her laughter.  “Is that right, Mrs. Haught?”_

 

_“That is correct, sir.  Private Peanut was just finishing up here and then she was going to go have a sandwich from the cooler.  Isn’t that right, Private Peanut?”  Your mother turned to you as you started shaking your head, just wanting to get out into the water with your cousins._

 

_“Mommaaaaaa, I’m not hungry!”  You protested, stomping your foot down and crossing your arms over your chest._

 

_“Now, peanut, even privates have to eat.”  You rolled your eyes._

 

_“Daddy, I’m not a peanut!”_

 

_“I beg to differ, you’ll always be my peanut.”  He patted you on the head before removing his Chicago Cubs baseball hat and placing it backwards on top of your head, the rim nearly covering your eyes._

* * *

 

_“Peanut, grab the ropes and pull!”_

 

_“I’m trying, Dad, hold on!”_

 

_“You’ve got this, just like I taught you!”  Your hands were red raw from the rope slipping through your fingers.  The sail of the boat was flapping ruthlessly in the strong winds and you were barely hanging on.  Your arms were screaming at you to just let go, but you also knew that in doing so, you would cause the boat to turn too sharply and whip the two of you overboard and into the cool water._

 

_The storm was a surprise, there wasn’t any sign of bad weather when you checked that morning, but you didn’t have much of a choice other than to try and sail back to shore.  The rain was a nuisance as it pelted you in the face and dripped into your eyes and caused your clothes to stick to your skin, but you tried your best to ignore it and focused on the task your father gave you: manning the sails.  He was busy steering, keeping the boat from capsizing and pulling the two of you under with it.  The orange life vests no match for the pull of the current._

 

_You could picture your mother the second the two of you dragged yourselves through the front door of the cabin, soaking wet and chilled to the bone, scolding you to no end, grounding the both of you from taking the boat out for the rest of the summer._

 

_You had to admit, you weren’t looking forward to it._

 

_“Dad, I can’t hold them!  The winds are too strong!”_

 

_“Don’t you ever let me hear you say you can’t, Peanut!”_

* * *

 

_You were running.  Fast.  Faster than you ever had before.  Faster than your record breaking 200m dash time._

 

_The air seemed more crisp, fresher.  You could tell it was spring just by the smell of the wind._

 

_Everything looked more vibrant.  You could see every detail, every perfect imperfection of the nature surrounding you.  Every vein in every leaf._

 

_The smell of the trees, more pronounced, almost as if you could smell each individual tree, each individual pinecone._

 

 _You could hear_ everything _.  The doe to your left, jumping over a fallen tree and sprinting further into the brush.  The rabbit to your right, hopping out of your way as you bounded over the uneven ground.  The hawk flying just above the tree line, stalking its prey – a tiny mouse, no bigger than your big toe, taking cover under foliage at the paths edge._

 

_And you could practically taste the elk just in front of you.  Inches from your salivating jaws.  All you had to do was pounce…_

* * *

 

_You heard his laugh first, maniacal and almost pleased.  It sent a violent shudder racking through your body, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end._

 

_You don’t remember jumping, but his bones cracked under the weight of your paws on his chest.  You could hear the blood pulsing through his heart.  You could see the pure joy in his eyes._

 

_You could taste the salt from the sweat on his flesh as you bit into the meaty part of his shoulder, the muscle tearing as your canines ripped through the tissue, his blood coating your tongue-_

 

_“Miss Haught.”_

* * *

 

“Haught!   **_Wake up_ **!”

 

You bolted upright with a yelp, your heart hammering in your throat, a sheen layer of cold sweat on your skin, the metallic-copper taste of blood on your tongue, the images of ripping a man in half still fresh on your mind.

 

Your stomach immediately protested, churning more violently than the waves under the hull of your fathers sailboat.  You felt your face grow entirely too hot and you must’ve turned a nasty shade of green because somewhere in the room you heard a, “Wynonna, she’s going to be sick,” before you even had the chance to utter a word.

 

‘ _Yeah,_ ’ you thought, ‘ _yeah, she is._ ’

 

You didn’t have time to think much about the new voice in the room because as soon as a small trash bin was placed in your lap, you leaned over it and emptied whatever was left in your stomach with your eyes pinched closed.  You didn’t think you could handle seeing anything resembling human flesh, if it happened to come up.

 

Wynonna took the garbage from you with a grimace when you were sure there was nothing left and placed it on the floor next to the bed before you were handed a box of tissues in its place.  You made no move to grab one.

 

“You okay there, Haught?”

 

You didn’t think you could talk so you only nodded, your eyes glued to your hands gripping the tissue box like a lifeline, knowing damn well you weren’t okay, but not really wanting to explain to Wynonna what you just witnessed, or remembered, rather.

 

Reliving killing someone didn’t get easier the second time around apparently, no matter whether or not they deserved it.  You could feel tears running down your chin and eyes boring holes into the side of your face.

 

“Nonna, why don’t we give her a minute…”

 

You silently thanked this mystery woman.  As much as you loved Wynonna, she could be a bit oblivious at times.

 

“But, Wave…”

 

“Out.”

 

You only lifted your head as the woman pushed Wynonna out of the room, closing the door behind her.  And maybe it was the fact that the last of the drugs Dolls gave you were fading from your system, or maybe it was because you finally had a moment to yourself, without any distractions from what happened the previous day, but you couldn’t hold back the shuddering sobs that wracked through your chest seconds after the door clicked shut.


	4. merry christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly officially meet.

You were instructed - via sticky note stuck to your forehead - to shower, change, and meet up in the basement lab, accompanied by a warning stating that if you weren’t there within the next two hours, Wynonna would be _forced_ to give you mouth-to-mouth.

You immediately sprang into action, practically giving yourself whiplash with how fast you sat up.  You had to take a second to just _breathe_ until the swimming in your head subsided and you felt you could at least get out of bed.

 

Without any windows in the room, you had no way of knowing what time it was, but you had an inkling it wasn’t the same day as when you had woken up the last time.  The wolf confirmed with a huff and you quietly apologized for your weak human body.  She was growing reckless and the prickling of your skin told you she needed to get out and _soon_.

 

Over the years since The Incident - The Change, The Bite, The _Whatever_ \- the two of you had come to a series of compromises.  One being, she would always allow you the conscious decision to change before taking over - with a few fine print clauses, of course - and you would allow her to _stretch her legs_ every once in a while, so to speak.  (The full moon was an exception out of your control, unfortunately, but she wasn’t hostile if she didn’t need to be and even though you still locked yourself up every month, despite the wolf’s eye rolls, she understood why you need that sense of control.)

 

When you finally stood, your legs didn’t wobble like you expected them to, from lack of use, but instead successfully carried you over to the counter against wall, opposite the bed.  You found a set of hideous pink scrubs sat, folded neatly, next to a toothbrush and small travel sized tube of toothpaste, a shiny red apple, a peanut butter chocolate chip granola bar and another note:

 

“ _Found these just for you!  Thought they’d go GREAT with your hair!  Oh, and brush your teeth, you have dog breath._

_P.S. Eat these, that wolf of yours was about to have a hissy fit if we gave you one more bag of liquid ‘food’._

_P.P.S Eat them SLOW!  I do not need to relive you throwing up all over yourself again._

_Thanks, Scoobs!_ ”

 

As if on cue, your stomach growled something fierce and you stuffed the scrubs under your arm, the apple into your mouth, and the granola bar and toothbrush and tube of toothpaste into your free hand before leaving the room and set out to find the closest shower.

 

The closest shower happened to be directly across the hall.  You figured it some good omen or a sign from the gods that things were looking up.  (You also figured that was a huge stretch because this building was old as dirt and there was no way in whatever hell this was that someone put the shower directly across the hall from this specific room, anticipating you were going to be half dead in it at one point.  But you didn’t dwell on that, you simply accepted the shower for what it was.)

 

You took your time.  You had two hours to waste (assuming you hadn’t been asleep that long after Wynonna left the note) so you took your time in washing the remaining gunk out of your hair, off of your skin, from under your fingernails.  You let yourself forget how much time you spent under the hot spray of water and just stood there, your eyes closed, hoping it would somehow wash away the memories as well, the pain - the wolf was silent the entire time, you figured she was giving you this time to yourself.

 

Unfortunately, the water only resulted in scorching your skin red and it eventually ran cold, forcing you to cut the stream off and gather a towel around your bruised body.  (You were pleasantly surprised to see your wounds free of stitches and blood-stained gauze.  Most of them had healed into scars surrounded by yellowing bruises, but a few of the deeper ones were scabbed over and healing nicely, now that your blood was rid of any silver.  Chicks dig scars though, right?  Not that you could actually tell the story behind them...) Once significantly dried off, you slipped the pair of pink scrubs on, avoided the mirror and grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste.  Now that you were aware, your mouth tasted an odd mixture of plastic, acid, and copper, which you immediately set about getting rid of.  You didn’t bother messing with your hair, you towel dried it as much as you could, but that was it, it was a futile effort.  You would’ve thrown it up if you had a hair tie.

 

You ate the apple and granola bar on your way to the elevator.  It required a code to get down to the lab, but you knew the override code so it didn’t matter.  As the elevator descended, you briefly wondered who it was exactly that you were about to walk into.  You didn’t enjoy meeting new people, especially with the wolf’s unsaid comments in the back of your head, mostly hinting at you leaving without explanation, never to see them again.  Needless to say, you didn’t have many friends.  Wynonna, Dolls, and Eliza were pretty much it, unless you counted your sister.  But the two of you only talked during holidays when the kids called their favorite - _only_ \- aunt and told you all about school and what they got for Christmas and to thank you for the gifts you got them (courtesy of Hailey because you rarely ever left the safety of the forest) and you told them how life was in the middle of nowhere and how many animals you saved since the last time they called.  You hadn’t seen them in person since you were turned.  You felt guilty about it, but you weren’t sure how Hailey would react to it, so you ostracized yourself and made up excuses and pretended you didn’t hear the hurt in Hailey’s voice when you told her you wouldn’t be coming home for Thanksgiving or Christmas or a birthday.

 

But, you could’ve died.  You almost _died,_ and without ever seeing your niece and your nephew again.  Without ever seeing your sister again.

 

Just as the elevator doors dinged open, you thought maybe this was the year you went home for the holidays.  After everything, you think you deserved at least that.  But then the wolf protested and something told you to look at the calendar hanging from a tack on the corkboard on the wall to your right and you noticed every day was marked with a black _X_ , stopping on-

 

“ _Merry Christmas!_  Want some eggnog?  It’s homemade, but it’s not too bad, lots of booze, non-dairy.  You’re welcome.”  Wynonna rushed it out in one breath, almost as if she didn't _want_ you to know the date.  Your gaze immediately zeroed in on Wynonna.  She was holding out a mug, filled to the brim.  You ignored it.

 

_Looks like next year it is then…_

 

“Wait, what the _fuck_.  It’s _Christmas_?  How long was I _out_?!”  You could’ve sworn you had at most, two weeks before, well, _now_.  Although, that _would_ explain the wolf’s ever-growing anxiety.  The full moon was exactly a week away (you had your calendar marked in angry red sharpie, circling every date of the full moon because if nothing else, you were at least a _prepared_ werewolf) and NASA was calling it a _Wolf Moon_.  That didn’t put any confidence into how _that_ night was going to go.  You thought briefly of asking Wynonna to spend the night with the wolf, keep her company.

 

“Introductions, your account of the events that took place, and then we’ll go over the minor details.”  He said it so casually, as if you hadn’t worked with him for _years_.

 

 _Minor details_?  How long you were essentially _held captive_ for didn’t seem like a _minor detail_ to you.

 

“Minor details?  Oh, cut the _shit_ , Dolls, and just tell me how fucking-”

 

“Two weeks, give or take a few days.”  It was Wynonna who answered.  Somewhere in the back of your mind you already knew this, but hearing it out loud somehow made it worse.  It felt like she punched you in the gut.  You didn’t even register the seven pairs of eyes on you, four of which were complete strangers.  You were frozen.

 

“ _Wynonna-_ ”

 

“She’s not wrong, she deserves to know, _Xavier_.  Quit being an ass, she’s _family_.”  Dolls only responded with a petulant huff before Wynonna continued and you tried to grasp onto every word.  “It took us almost a week to even pick up your location, the fucker left your sat phone and radio on the trail with your belt by the bear head, we’re guessing he used a tranq of some sort before dragging you.  Dolls and I managed to follow the trail until a blizzard hit and wiped his tracks, forcing us to either turn back or get stranded.  Shapiro brought the polar bear head back here for Jeremy and started checking camera feeds in the area.  It wasn’t until a couple days later she got a ping from your watch.  He had you in the gun vault of one of the abandoned ranger stations, off the unmarked trail near the old campsites.  Apparently, whenever he would open the door to the vault, the signal from your watch would reach the tower out there, but up until Shapiro got the ping, the blizzard had knocked everything out.  

 

“Once we had the coordinates, it took us a few days to drive out there.  We didn’t know what we’d find so we took the big truck and one of the snowmobiles.  We parked the truck as close as we could and took the snowmobile until we were a mile out and hiked the rest of the way.  When we got to the station, Dolls kept watch while I went in.  I found the guy ripped to shreds and you, naked, covered in blood, and shaking like a fucking leaf.

 

“We brought you back here, cleaned you up, _calledyoursister_ , put you in a room, and here we are.  Now, introductions-”

 

“Wynonna, you _called my sister_?!”  So much for grasping onto every word…

 

The wolf was oddly calm about the whole thing, but you, _you_ were practically a livewire.  You weren’t completely sure if it was Wynonna you were mad at though, or if it was residual.

 

“If that’s all you got out of that, then we need to have a talk about your-”

 

Dolls cut her off, “We told her you were attacked by a cougar, that you wandered into its territory-”

 

A _cougar_ , seriously??

 

“That doesn’t even make any _fucking_ sense, I wouldn’t have-”

 

“Would you rather us have told her that you were kidnapped by a man who fabricated and sold silver weapons to Hunters and used you, a _werewolf_ , as a guinea pig for his own pleasure?  That he was recording the entire thing to send to possible buyers as proof that his weapons worked?  Or maybe you would’ve liked me to tell her you nearly died from _silver poisoning_ , Nicole, and not from the multiple lacerations to your _entire body_ , or the one that almost went through your _heart_?  What about the fact that he shocked you with nearly-”

 

“Okay, Dolls, _enough_!”

 

You only realized you were growling, your hands balled into fists, when Eliza had to physically push Dolls back down into his chair and step in between the two of you.  Wynonna stepped in and shoved you gently back against the wall and down to the ground, forcing the mug of eggnog into your hand and told you to drink it and _fucking relax_.

 

So you did.

 

And then she poured you another, leaving out the _egg_ and just filled your cup up with whiskey and left you the bottle.

 

It took longer and a few more drinks than you anticipated to calm down, probably because you were actively ignoring the wolf and she wasn’t outright pushing the anger down.  When you were somewhat thinking clearly, and the rage was completely extinguished, it was immediately replaced with embarrassment and guilt and you thought maybe if you stared at the floor long enough, you would be able to will it to swallow you whole.

 

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case and when you were forced to look up after a tap to your shin, you found yourself being immersed in a pair of dark eyes and a small smile, while everyone else seemed to be murmuring quietly from the other end of the room (you weren’t sure when they all migrated over there, but you weren’t complaining either).  You pretended not to notice Wynonna glancing toward the two of you out of the corner of your eye.

 

“We already know who you are, but we’re all a bunch of strangers to you.  I’m Waverly Earp, lead researcher.  Technically I’m the _only_ researcher, but ya know, Dolls is _Dolls_.”  She sat down next to you, her shoulder a hair's width from yours, holding her hand out in front of her, waiting for you to shake it.  You’re not sure if it was you or the wolf that actually put your hand in hers, but you found yourself shaking her hand almost on autopilot, your eyes glued to the speck of brown in her irises.

 

“Earp?”  You found yourself questioning as she - _Waverly_ \- dropped her hand back to her lap.  You immediately missed the contact.

 

“Yeah, clearly Wynonna hasn’t mentioned me…”  She breathed a laugh and glanced towards Wynonna, breaking eye contact, her smile not really reaching her eyes.

 

“No, she has, it’s just...been a long couple of weeks…”  Waverly shook her head before meeting your gaze again and gently bumping her shoulder to yours.

 

“You don’t have to cover for her.”

 

“I’m not, she just...doesn’t talk a lot about her home life.  None of us do, really.  Why do you think we _choose_ to be here?”  As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you realized how that might’ve come across and wished you could take them back, visibly grimacing.  “Shit, sorry.  I didn’t mean it like _that-_ ”

 

“No, you’re right.  I can see the appeal.  Lots of room to... _run around_ , you know, _stretch your legs, let your hair down_.”  Your eyes went wide for a split second before you realized she was smiling at you.  She was joking, it was a _joke_.

 

_Jesus, lighten up, Nicole, she doesn’t care._

 

“Funny.  You’re funny.”

 

“I know, now come on and I’ll introduce you to the others.”  You barely bit down a whine as she grabbed a hold of your wrist and practically dragged you across the room with a soft, "Oh, and nice scrubs, by the way."  You didn't bother with a rebuttal.


	5. thanks for everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly have a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, its been a month. I don't even know if I like this chapter. I blame my Psych exam and the two papers I had to write.
> 
> Next chapter we get back out into the woods and the gang discovers something pretty unsettling.

After everything that happened in the last few days - weeks, the wolf seemed to grow almost unbearably protective of you.  She saw firsthand how the whole kidnapping/torture ordeal affected you, so you couldn’t really fault her.  Whether you were willing to admit it or not, you needed her comfort and protection every once in a while.  In a way, it grounded you and without her, you’d be stuck dealing with it on your own, you didn’t want to have to bother Wynonna, or even Dolls, with it.  You didn’t really want to think about what being alone would be like.  You’re not sure you’d be able to handle it.

 

She physically felt every emotion you did, your memories are her memories and vice versa - if she decides to share them with you, that is.  You kind of felt guilty that she had to constantly go through that.  But you felt her pain too.  Her concern for your well-being, her exhaustion, her almost mother-bear-protecting-her-cub tendencies.  Her approval of the people in the room.  Her warmth trying to envelope you, telling you to trust them.  You were skeptical, but she was usually right about most things.  ( _‘Usually’_ as in, you couldn’t remember a time where she was ever wrong, but you didn’t think you could handle her being _that_ smug if you mentioned it.)

 

You found out Jeremy was the “crazy smart lab guy with a thing for mustaches and older dudes”, Rosita was “shit with a gun, but could blow you up with nothing more than a handful of household items after making you a drink so good you’d come back from the dead just to get another”, and Doc AKA John Henry (you’re still not really sure why they call him Doc) could “shoot a hair off a horses ass without so much as a whinny from it and then take every last possession you owned in a single game of poker”.

 

AKA the _Nerd Herd_ , according to Wynonna.  She introduced you as “the only Haughtdog with a better set of buns than Oscar Mayer’s wiener”, earning her a smack on her arm from Waverly and a glare so powerful you’re almost positive it’s brought men to their knees.  You found yourself snickering at the look on Wynonna’s face.  Not many people have been able to put Wynonna in her place and it proved to be just as entertaining as you thought it’d be.

 

They didn’t seem like bad people.   _Dolls_ trusted them for Pete’s sake and they all seemed to accept you for who you were, which you couldn’t make a fuss about.  Jeremy didn’t really know when to keep his mouth shut, but he spoke his mind and wasn’t afraid to get caught up in talking about something he loved and you envied him for that.  Rosita seemed nice enough, if not a bit standoffish at first, but she eventually let her walls down a bit more here and there.  Doc was quiet and you liked his hat and as if that wasn’t enough, he got incredibly talkative and was just turned into the biggest pile of mush the more whiskey he consumed (which happened to be almost as much as you at one point).

 

But when you went to recount your side of the story, you couldn’t get it out, not at first anyway.  You knew it had a lot more to do with _you_ than with the people in front of you.  The wolf agreed.

 

Wynonna suggested more whiskey and you didn’t exactly refuse.  You vaguely acknowledged the wolf protesting in the back of your head - and Waverly might have said something as well - but you took the offered bottle anyway and took a few large gulps, wincing at the taste on your tongue and the burn down your throat.  Wynonna passed around another to the others, leaving that bottle with you.

 

It took you a minute, but you were finally able to tell your side of the story, starting with your patrol that morning two weeks ago, while Waverly and Jeremy took notes and Dolls recorded the whole thing on a pocket-sized tape recorder just in case either of them missed something.  Wynonna looked like she wanted to be anywhere else and you felt the wolf’s need to reach out to her, comfort her.  You could practically smell the anxiety radiating from her.  As much as she tried to be a hardass, you knew Wynonna felt a lot and she kept a lot of those feelings inside, especially now that her sister was here.  She was trying to be strong and unaffected.  But, her eyes were like windows and as much as you hated to admit it, you could sense every emotion she was trying to hide.  You couldn’t imagine the toll of walking in to finding you like she did, even more guilt pressing into the recesses of your mind the longer you watched her.

 

You must’ve stopped mid-sentence or fumbled over your words a little too noticeably because suddenly her eyes were on yours, along with everyone else’s in the room, and then Waverly was shooing everyone away and out into the hallway.  You were barely able to restrain the need to hug the woman in front of you, maybe it was the whiskey taking effect, but you could’ve sworn there was more than a quarter of a bottle not even ten minutes ago.

 

You mumbled a quiet, possibly slightly slurred, barely audible _‘sorry’_ in lieu of an apology, but Waverly was shaking her head and waving it off with a ‘ _you’ve been through a lot’_ and a _‘they’re not much help all staring at you like that_ ’.  You weren’t really sure what to say so you didn’t say anything and instead focused your attention on the peeling label in between your fingers, Waverly reclaiming her seat on the stool in front of you, notepad and pen still in hand.

 

“If you want me to leave, just say the word and I’ll go.”  She said it so softly, so full of genuine concern, that you nearly broke out into tears.  You blamed your emotional instability on the apparent three quarters of a bottle of whiskey you consumed in such a short amount of time.  You’re sure any human would have been halfway to death’s door at this point, but the wolf helped with your tolerance considerably.  (You found that little fact out in some dingy biker bar at the edge of whatever town you were closest to at the time, not long after you discovered what you were.  You remembered being almost blinded by rage when you were six shots deep and felt nothing other than the wolf pounding at the back of your skull, a constant reminder.)

 

You shook your head, almost too quickly, too needy, too desperate, you didn’t really want to be alone.  Even a stranger - acquaintance? - was satisfactory enough for you at the moment.

 

“Okay,” Waverly whispered.  And the two of you sat in silence, Waverly reading over her notes and making a few more in the margins, taking not-so-subtle glances in your direction every couple of minutes, as you finished nursing the bottle grasped between your sweaty palms.  You hadn’t met her eyes once.

 

“I don’t even remember most of it…a lot of what happened are the wolf’s memories and she’s a bit selective about what she allows me to...you know,” you mumbled with a shrug, feeling the wolf immediately start to protest.  Waverly rushed to answer, as if she was surprised that you had said anything at all and wanted to continue the conversation before you changed your mind.

 

“That’s okay.  We pretty much have her entire account on video anyway.  The camera Dolls found was smashed, but the memory card only had minimal damage and Jeremy was able to get most of the footage from it.”  You felt the wolf’s anxiety creep under your skin and bleed in with yours, your eyes immediately snapping up to Waverly’s.

 

“Have you…”

 

“Watched it?”  At the nod of your head, she continued.  “No.  I didn’t think you’d want us to.  So far, only Dolls and Wynonna have watched it all the way through.  Jeremy couldn’t- He’s a bit squeamish...”  You didn’t really know what to say.  On one hand, you were grateful and relieved she didn’t see you like that, for some reason it left a bad taste in your mouth and you weren’t sure you were ready for whatever minute thing the two of you had brewing, to be over.  The wolf seemed just as relieved, if not more so.  On the other hand, that only left her with Wynonna’s account of the aftermath and whatever you were able to tell her, leaving a lot of room for her own imagination to intervene.  A brief thought crossed your mind that maybe it’d be better if she just watched the video.  It’d at least put the both of your minds at ease about the unknown.

 

You must have stayed silent for too long because suddenly she was closing her notebook and standing up from the stool like it let off a sudden shock of electricity, her hair flowing wildly with the movement.  “You know what, I think we actually have enough to put something together.  I gathered a bunch of research and have a few theories on the man that did this, I also already managed to translate some of the symbols on the weapons he used, so you can look at all of that whenever you’re ready.  I think what we all need is a good night’s sleep.  It _is_ Christmas, after all.”  You had to admit, you were impressed.  She hadn’t even been here for a full 48 hours and she already had theories.   _Plural_.  You and the wolf were eager to know what they were, but you were also on your way to being drunk and you thought maybe a few hours rest was just what you needed.  Especially if you were meant to watch the video.  Part of you hoped Dolls wouldn’t bring it up again.

 

Waverly somehow managed to make it halfway to the door while your mind was still trying to catch up to what she was saying, but as she was reaching for the handle you felt a slight pull in your chest and was forced to look up.  It was weird and unfamiliar, but not entirely unwelcome.  You ignored it, finding yourself grabbing Waverly’s wrist.  You’re not sure if it was actually _you_ or not, but the pressure was just enough to get her attention and stop her movement forward.  You stood awkwardly grasping onto her for what felt like forever and a day before the wolf mentally kicked you into gear.  You could practically feel the light slap to the back of your head.

 

“Waverly, thanks for uh…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to say.  There wasn’t _one_ thing you wanted to thank her for, but saying _everything_ felt a bit much.  She seemed to understand, though, if the small smile and light blush that suddenly appeared was any indication.  She left it at a simple nod and a quiet ‘ _you’re welcome’_ before she left you in the lab, your hand hanging limply in the air between you, the door open, a quiet invitation.  The wolf wanted to follow her and you felt that same tug in your chest as before, but you fought it just to get a minute to collect yourself before facing the others.

 

Your resolve only lasted until Wynonna burst through the door asking if you were okay, Waverly hot on her tail with an apologetic grimace directed your way, but you were used to Wynonna’s antics and simply rolled your eyes good-naturedly.


	6. hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang comes across a grueling discovery that leads to more questions than answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew the Hunter's symbol that is on the flag because I needed to visualize it, so here's a link for that.
> 
> https://drive.google.com/file/d/1BfyrX8ArlydFxqHEr0JTayBSD6P1mzDA/view?usp=sharing

It was decided pretty quickly that everyone was to be with a buddy at all times.  Dolls didn’t want to go on anymore rescue missions and Wynonna claimed she needed at least a few months before anymore crazy started up again.

 

Looking back, you’re positive that statement was what jinxed the lot of you.

 

The straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.

 

Because almost immediately after the words left her mouth, it was like all hell broke loose.

* * *

 

Since it was so close to the full moon, and your cabin was the only one with a werewolf sized cage in the gun storage unit, it was agreed that everyone would rendezvous there for the time being.  Maybe it was ironic, but your cabin was the only newly built design that still had a gun vault at all.  Not that it really housed anything more than your patrol rifle and shotgun, but you didn’t really use it as intended anyway.  There was enough room in the area of the vault outside the cage that Jeremy or Rosita could set up any mobile equipment they needed and Waverly could probably line up her research along the walls or take over your small kitchen table.  Also, unlike the other's cabins, yours had a bedroom, albeit entirely too small, it did have a bunk bed in it and you wouldn’t be opposed to sleeping on the floor in the living room on your sleeping pad, if it meant the others got the couch or a bed.

 

You pretended not to think about how much you sounded like a household pet just then.

 

It turned out to not actually be as late as you thought it was and after everyone was significantly more sober, Dolls proposed the idea of heading out to your cabin that night, to get some real sleep and a real meal and maybe to feel just a bit more normal.  No one disagreed and soon you were being handed your retrieved belongings and a new uniform, still starched and stiff as a board, but you immediately felt so much more at ease with the weight of your belt and sidearm resting on your hips and your hat on your head, your boots on your feet, your radio on your shoulder, that it barely bothered you.

 

The truck was packed, the snowmobiles refueled, backpacks stocked with too much of everything, and before you knew it everyone was pairing up, aside from Dolls who said he would be taking his snowmobile by himself.  No one really argued.

 

Doc went with Wynonna on her snowmobile and Rosita went with Eliza on hers, which just left Jeremy to ride with you and Waverly in the truck.  You didn’t think anything of it until he sat in the middle of the backseat and immediately started talking and asking questions that you only got to half answer before he thought of another and you found yourself having to constantly swallow a pitiful whine from the wolf.

 

Dolls quickly took the lead, followed by Wynonna and Eliza a few meters back, and you rounded up the rear in the truck, your headlights lighting up the trail behind the snowmobiles.  The snow was still heavily prominent on the ground and fallen down trees blocked the path completely in some areas, forcing all of you to stop while Dolls took care of it, either with the chainsaw from the back of the truck or simply by moving it himself.  It wasn’t a long ride, but the condition of the usual trails made the trip almost three times as long as it normally would have been and Jeremy’s incessant talking was grinding your gears and you could tell the wolf was just as annoyed.  With the full moon coming up, the both of you were more on edge than normal and Jeremy giving you what felt like the fifth degree wasn’t helping.  Waverly tried to divert the conversation a few times, but failed miserably.  He was persistent, you’ll give him that.  And it certainly didn’t take long for his mouth to overstep.

 

“What was the craziest thing you’ve ever killed?”  He asked excitedly, while you immediately folded in on yourself.  You knew he was just curious and didn’t mean anything by it, but killing things was still a sore subject apparently.  Waverly must’ve noticed.  As soon as the words were out of Jeremy’s mouth, she was turning around in her seat so fast her hair nearly whipped you in the cheek.

 

“ _Jeremy_ …” she scolded, whispered through gritted teeth.  He shut up quickly, but as soon as Waverly turned back around, he was asking about your diet.

 

Waverly was getting ready to attempt to shut Jeremy down as gently as she could, _again_ , when Dolls raised a closed fist at the head of the group, followed by Wynonna then Eliza's, signaling for you to stop.  You were further back than the others, but with the wolfs sight, you could just make out your cabin further up the trail and what you saw was anything but welcoming.

 

You immediately felt on edge, you didn’t even try to tamp down the growl in your chest, almost deafening in the cabin of the truck, you’re certain at least Jeremy jumped as a result.  Your skin was crawling with the need to jump out of the car and just let the wolf do what she thought she needed to do, but you had enough coherent thought to at least stay strapped into the seat, even if you could feel your nails sharpen and dig into your palms where you were gripping the steering wheel so tightly it was starting to form to the mold of your hands.  You could hear your heart beating so loud that it drowned out everything else.  You couldn’t even hear Jeremy’s rambling anymore, although you couldn’t be sure he was even still talking.

 

All it took was Dolls removing his gun from his holster, Eliza not far behind him, for you to finally unbuckle your seat belt, slam the truck in park, and get out of the car, your uniform shirt already unbuttoned and your belt placed haphazardly onto the seat you just vacated.  You vaguely remembered hearing Jeremy say something about _something_ being ‘ _so cool_ ’ and Waverly chastising him for it.  You threw your boots and socks into the floor, and eventually your pants, your hat falling off in the process.  You vaguely registered the passenger door opening and slamming shut as Waverly tried to follow, but was quickly pushed back towards the truck by Wynonna as you ran to catch up with Dolls and Eliza.  Your body slumped to all fours, your muscles and skin stretching, your hair growing to cover your entire body, your bones reshifting to accommodate, all in a matter of the few seconds it took you to fall into step next to them, hackles immediately rising, teeth bared, the wolf waiting at the edge of your consciousness for your signal to fully take over.

 

The cabin was in chaos.  Through the front door, still attached by the bottom hinge and hanging awkwardly off the frame, you could tell the inside was just as bad, with furniture strewn about the room, almost as if whoever did this was looking for something.  Something you couldn’t imagine having.  You had very few personal belongings and none of them were anything anybody but you would deem important.

 

With every step you took closer to the disaster in front of you, you noticed an unbearable feeling of eyes on you, of being watched.  The wolf only grew that much more uncomfortable.  You didn’t give it a seconds thought though, and ignored it the best you could, the scene in front of you taking precedence as Eliza and Dolls went off to the side of the cabin to make sure it was clear, while you continued forward in a half crouch.

 

Attached to the front door, held in place by a single silver arrow, was a cloth flag, ripped, wet and dripping in what looked and smelled entirely too much like human blood, a puddle already forming underneath it on the now red-stained snow on the porch.  In the center of the flag, laid an intricate design of lines, almost laid out like a road, sewn into the fabric by nimble hands.  There were words in a language you couldn’t recognize across the top and in the center of a double headed axe with six angry red lines crisscrossed over the handle, then just above the axe was what looked to you like an upside down paw print.  It wasn’t something you recognized.

 

As the drier edges of the flag blew slightly in the winter winds, you noticed something written on the wood of the door.  With your snout, you carefully pushed the flag aside, holding your breath, revealing a single word, _Φονιάς_ , in another language you couldn’t even fathom, written in the same blood that the flag was drenched in.  You didn’t have any idea of what it might’ve said, but you and the wolf both knew it couldn’t have been anything good.  At least you agreed on that.

 

At the sound of approaching footsteps crunching in the snow, you startled and flinched, your ear nicking the silver of the arrow holding the flag in place just above your head.  You yelped in surprise, the tip of your ear burning at the contact and swatted gently at it with your paw.  When you turned around, you found Eliza watching you with an amused smirk on her face and a raised eyebrow, her arms crossed, hip out, her gun no longer drawn and at the ready.

 

“ _Smooth,_ Haught.”

 

With a glare, you huffed out an annoyed breath and turned back around to continue inspecting the doorway.  Flattening your ears for good measure (you weren’t trying to burn yourself again) and ignoring Eliza walking up the porch steps to stand just to the left of your shoulder to take a closer look at the flag, you ducked away from the arrow.  The door frame wasn’t wide enough for your shoulders to fit through, but you managed to crouch under the broken door and stick your head in just enough to sniff it out.  What you smelled was nothing you had ever smelled before, hidden under the smell of blood.  A lot of it.  Human.  You barely got a chance to adjust to the dark inside the cabin.  Without seeing much of anything, the wolf recoiled in disgust, making you hit your head on the door and nearly falling off the porch in the process.  The smell was too much, making your eyes water and causing you to cough and sneeze.  You rubbed at your face with a paw to try and get the smell out of your nose, to no avail.  With another huff and a violent shake of your head, you turned around and jumped off the porch with as much grace as you could muster, immediately shoving your face into the undisturbed snow.  The relief was instant as the smell of the frozen earth invaded your senses.  You pushed your nose in further and laid down with a sigh, pretending no one was watching you with mild amusement.

 

“Dolls?  You might want to come and look at this!”

 

You lifted your head just enough to see Dolls jog up the porch steps from where he was talking with Wynonna and Waverly.  They were still standing where Dolls’ snowmobile was still running and the trees opened up a bit into the small clearing where your cabin was.  Still lying in the snow, you shook your head, trying to free your fur of any last snowflake and watched Dolls step up next to Eliza on your front porch.  He was careful not to touch the door, leaning his head through the open frame with a flashlight and then he was calling Waverly over with a camera and stepping out of the way.  He brought Jeremy over next with Rosita, and Doc and Wynonna followed, staying at your side, watching them work.  

 

You watched Waverly take pictures and write down notes in a notebook that had butterflies on the front cover, while Jeremy pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his backpack and a handful of evidence bags and began carefully following in Waverly’s footsteps, taking the arrow out of the door and placing it in a bag, then placing the flag in another.  Waverly went back and took another picture of the door before Dolls moved it and allowed them to step inside.  Rosita followed behind Dolls, getting samples of the blood on the door and from the puddle in the snow where it was dripping, before she joined the others.

 

They were done fairly quickly, the cabin only being a few rooms total, including the bathroom and bedroom.  Dolls walked out first, his face stoic and headed straight towards where you were sitting, a good distance away, Wynonna absentmindedly running her hands through the red hair at your shoulder.  You’re not even sure she realized she was doing, but you didn’t mind and you weren't about to be the one to point it out.

 

“Wolfs bane.  It’s only at the entrance of the cabin so it shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of, but we’re going to clean up what we can.  You’ll have to stay out here until we’re done though.  If you inhale enough of it, it could paralyze your lungs.”   _Oh, perfect.  Just what you needed._ You nodded your head, acknowledging you heard him and stood up.  He looked at you warily, as if you were going to follow him after he just told you to stay put, but you only took a few steps before lying down again with a huff at the base of the steps to your cabin, facing out at the trees, your head on your paws.  Wynonna and Doc followed Dolls into the cabin, leaving you alone.

 

For a while, the only sounds you heard were those of furniture being scraped across the floor and the frantic scrubbing of a brush against wood.  No one was talking, but you didn’t think they needed to.

 

It wasn’t long before the immense feeling of being watched returned.  This time, you couldn’t seem to shake it and you could _feel_ the fear creeping up your spine.


	7. the order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly goes all Waverly and Nicole realizes she has a small problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of mythological talk in this chapter and I don’t actually know Latin or Greek and did the best I could with the letters and translations. If something is wrong, don't be afraid to let me know, I’ll gladly change it :)

As the feeling of being watched only grew, you constantly found yourself surveying the forest just beyond the tree line, using your not-so-human senses to your advantage.  The wolf was on edge, your skin was prickling with nervous energy, your breathing had picked up significantly, and you were a hot few seconds from _literally_ running away from your problems, but ever the saving grace, Dolls finally gave you the okay to come back into the cabin.  You wasted no time in leaping up from where you were laying and bounded up the porch steps, nearly colliding with Dolls where he was standing in the door frame.  After he moved aside with a sigh (and a roll of his eyes that the wolf wasn’t too fond of - you could practically hear her saying, ‘Oh yeah?  Well you try and sit out there after someone broke into your house and threw blood around like fucking confetti and see how _you_ like it!’), you somehow managed to maneuver yourself through the doorway as quickly as possible, having to shimmy sideways on your hind legs and downshift slightly to even fit.  You nearly landed flat on your ass after your paw got caught on the rug in the small foyer and you tripped, nearly taking out a wall in the process.  No one but Wynonna was really paying attention, all engrossed in their own tasks, but you glared at her poorly hid smirk behind her fist before you found a spot behind your couch to lay down so you wouldn’t hit your head on the ceiling.  You didn’t want to downshift completely in front of all of these people, considering you destroyed your bra and underwear in the change, and you figured you’d need to go back out at some point and walk the perimeter around your cabin before you went to bed for the night anyway.

 

You quietly observed Waverly in your kitchen, rummaging through your nearly bare cupboards and your fridge that you only had beer in.  Wynonna was watching her as well, but with more amusement and intrigue in her eyes than anything, leaning against the counter next to several cans of baked beans and your double burner hot plate that you noticed was warming a pot of water.  Doc had taken to starting a fire in the fireplace and announced, with a southern drawl, that he was headed out back to chop more wood to last the night and tomorrow.  You felt kinda bad, you never needed the fireplace and didn’t keep the wood stocked unless Eliza or Wynonna was over and even then you only cut up enough wood to last for the few hours or so that they stayed, but Doc didn’t seem like he minded helping out.  Eliza and Dolls made it clear they were leaving the cabin to go bring the truck closer and get the snowmobiles unpacked, while Jeremy and Rosita went down to the gun vault, with your permission, to start setting everything up that they needed.  You kept your ears trained as much as you could on the sounds outside the cabin and the surrounding woods, just in case.

 

For dinner, Waverly made something that involved quinoa, bell peppers, onion, cucumber, and the chili powder at the back of one of your cupboards.  You’re not really sure where she even found half the ingredients she used, but you figured she had to have brought most of them.  Dolls roasted hot dogs for anyone that wanted one and heated up a can of beans over the open flame of the fireplace.  You paid little attention to the warning from Dolls about taking it easy because your stomach wasn’t used to solid foods and ate a few plain hot dogs in the corner, accompanied by a plate of beans and Waverly’s vegan dish, hoping no one paid that much attention to how you greedily scarfed them down.  You tried to use a spoon at first, but it didn’t go as well as you thought it would and you ended up catching Waverly snickering under her breath from where she was watching you, seated at the small table in your kitchen.  With a slight blush that you thanked the universe she couldn’t see, and a huff, you simply lifted the plate up with your front paws, foregoing the spoon completely, and just poured the food into your mouth.  It went better than expected and you couldn’t help but give Waverly the most smug look you could muster, to which she rolled her eyes and pointed to her chin.  You tilted your head in confusion while she laughed, a real laugh that warmed your insides.  It wasn’t until a hand towel hit you in the face and broke your eye contact with the brunette that you realized you had beans dripping down your chin and into the fur covering your chest.  You could actually feel the wolf’s facepalm.

 

At the first sign of drooping eyelids, it was suggested that everyone hit the hay and get some rest.  Between Dolls and Doc, and some help from Eliza, the front door was macgyvered back onto its hinges and tarps were duct taped to the broken windows at the front of the cabin to keep the harsh cold out.  Wynonna volunteered to take the first watch for the night, insisting she wasn’t the slightest bit tired, complaining about your lack of any sort of alcohol in the cabin.  You wordlessly invited yourself to stay up with her, while Rosita and Waverly took the set of bunk beds in the bedroom.  Jeremy passed out on the small love seat in the living room, his legs hanging off one side of the couch, and Dolls took the extra cot from your closet, leaving the one from the truck for Doc.  Eliza slept on the floor of the kitchen with her sidearm under her pillow, only using blankets and her sleeping pad for comfort.

 

You joined Wynonna on the front porch, curling up behind where she sat on the steps with a huff, she silently thanked you with a pat between your ears when you lowered your head to rest on your paws, looking out into the darkness.  She sat, quiet, immersed in her own thoughts, rolling her sidearm between her hands, staring out at the trees, taking careful glances up at the stars every once in awhile.  You nudged her hip with your nose to try and get her to voice what was going in her mind, but she just shook her head with a slight smile and leaned back, further into you.

 

Waverly joined the two of you maybe an hour later, bundled up in a puffy winter coat, and fuzzy boots, saying she couldn’t sleep as she took a seat next to her sister, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.  You made sure to wrap your body around her back for extra heat as well and pretended she didn’t smell like coconut shampoo and floral body wash.  She eventually brought the blanket to lay over her lap, sharing it with Wynonna and laid her head on her sister’s shoulder while she absentmindedly ran her hand through the fur behind your ears.  You found yourself losing yourself in her touch (her hands were incredibly soft and just the right amount of gentle), sighing as your eyes drooped and slid closed.

 

It might’ve been minutes or even seconds, you couldn’t be sure, but soon enough Wynonna was nudging your hip with her elbow and complaining that you were snoring, telling you to go inside.  You only relented after a halfhearted grumble that you weren’t even sure came from you, when Waverly removed her hand from your fur.  At Wynonna's request of, ‘unless you want to see her completely naked, I suggest handing her the blanket,’ Waverly threw the blanket over your body with a poorly hid blush that got your wolf excited.  You ignored her though and did your best to keep yourself covered as Wynonna and Waverly turned back around and you downshifted to your human body, pulling the blanket tight around yourself, now that you weren’t covered in thick red fur.  It was a little disorienting at first, being human again, after being in form for so long, but you managed to lazily walk yourself to the bathroom, change into sweats, and get your sleeping pad laid out, without falling asleep mid stride or waking anyone up.  You decided to lay out your pad right in front of the door, just in case Wynonna or Waverly called for you, but it was looking like a quiet night and you hadn’t felt the prickling of the hair at the back of your neck since before dinner.

 

Waverly and Wynonna stayed outside for nearly the entire rest of the night, until Dolls took over watch and practically forced them back into the cabin to get at least a few hours of shuteye before sunrise.  You fell asleep easily to the smell of Waverly still on the blanket wrapped around you and a completely content wolf, even if you pretended the only reason you were so at ease was because you were too exhausted not to be.

* * *

 

The next morning, after some much needed coffee (if nothing else, you needed your caffeine) and a small breakfast of bacon and eggs, Waverly ushered everyone into the cramped gun vault under your cabin for the debriefing.  Sometime between last night and now, she had put together a PowerPoint of all the evidence she gathered, complete with pictures and WordArt and slide animations.  It was cute, if you ignored the pictures of blood projected onto the wall.

 

“Okay, first and foremost: this _shitticket_ .”   Waverly pressed the space bar on her laptop and the title screen of the presentation changed from ‘ _Case 009 - Nicole Haught’_ to a screenshot of the face of the man that took you to the old ranger’s cabin in the Ghost River Triangle.  The screenshot was clearly from the video that he recorded when he had you strapped to the table.  You could tell Waverly cropped the image so it wouldn’t include you.  “From the video, we were able to get a positive ID.  I recognized his face from some research I did looking into the GRT.  He calls himself the _Jack of Knives_ -”

 

“Fitting,” you mumbled under your breath.  Waverly barely paused.

 

“-AKA the modern day _Jack the Ripper_ , AKA _Jack Bryk_ .  He was a well-known surgeon that retired years ago after losing his license when his assistant, Reggie, was found dead in the hospital morgue. Jack was never found guilty, but the markings on Dr. Reggie’s body were nearly identical to Jack’s technique.  After ‘retirement’, he started fabricating and eventually selling, intricately detailed weapons, most of which were knives, i.e. where the name _Jack of Knives_ came from.  The Hunters would simply put in a request for a weapon, made to kill - _or torture_ \- a werewolf, but the weapons were never bought until there was confirmation that the weapons actually worked, which is why Jack was recording and why he kept the journal.  The Hunters even requested devices that, theoretically, could track werewolves, or identify humans that were thought to _be_ werewolves.  From what I got from what was left of Jack’s journal, though, he didn’t get that far in his research.

 

“I wasn’t able to get any names of his buyers, but I have an inkling that whatever we came across last night wasn’t some random attack.  Whoever did this was obviously looking for something, not necessarily some _one,_ and was very obviously pissed off when they didn’t find it.  If I had to guess, I’d say they were here for this…”  Waverly, very gingerly, then pulled out an evidence bag with the long knife with gold markings on it’s blade inside, the same one Jack used to make his last cut through your chest with.  It still had smudges of your blood on the silver.  You found yourself growling at the inanimate object, as if getting angry at it would _help_ somehow.  You only quieted down when Wynonna placed her hand on your knee.  With a subtle clear of your throat and the uncomfortable rush of heat to your face and the tip of your ears, you gestured for Waverly to continue with a quiet _‘sorry’_.  Embarrassed, you leaned back in your chair, crossed your arms over your chest, and tried to pretend everyone wasn’t staring at you.  Waverly smiled apologetically before placing the knife back down on the table that was set up.  Then you seemed to realize one minute detail that you should’ve probably already known.

 

“Okay, question…”

 

Waverly nodded her head in your direction.  “Shoot.”

 

“What exactly _is_ a Hunter?  And why have I never run into them before now?  I mean, I’ve been here for years...” you asked, trailing off at the end, not sure how to continue.  Waverly shrugged.

 

“Maybe you’re just that good at hiding the fact?”  you didn’t get a chance to even open your mouth before Eliza was putting in her two cents.

 

“She’s not.”

 

“ _Hey_ ,” you protested, your eyes snapping to hers.  Eliza simply shrugged, while Wynonna let out a snort and suddenly the tense moment from before was gone.  Your shoulders relaxed, you took another sip of your coffee, and tried to focus on Waverly.

 

“I’ll have to look into it.”  You noticed a slight twitch at the corner of Waverly’s lips as she took the time to jot something down in her notebook before looking back to you and continuing.  “ _Hunters_ , though, are a supernatural organization that, well, _hunts_ werewolves.  In this case, it looks like we’re dealing with _The Order_ .  This specific clan was one of the first, founded by a man named _Bulshar Clootie_ in the 1800s.  From what I could gather, a werewolf turned his only two sons into what he considered monsters, leaving him to believe that his only choice was to kill them.  He started the clan with his three wives, one of which took his last name, _Constance_ Clootie.  Constance later ran away from The Order, blaming her husband for their sons deaths, and eventually went on to lock her husband and his other two wives away somewhere with the help of another clan.  This one lead by a man named Juan Carlos and with the help of Robert Svane, the leader of a larger and now more powerful clan.  They’ve all been lying pretty low as of recently though.  Until now, I guess.”

 

At the nod of your head, Waverly pressed the space bar on her laptop and the slide went to a picture of the flag that was stuck to the door of your cabin.  With another press of a button, the picture is blown up to get a clear view of the lettering along the top of the dark emblem in the middle of the flag.

 

“This is archaic Latin script.  It reads ‘ _corvus oculum corvi non eruit XC_ ’, which roughly translates to, ‘ _a raven will not pick out the eye of another raven_ ’, which is pretty much the same thing as ‘ _honor among thieves_ ’.  It’s most likely referring to The Order’s unanimity as a clan, regardless of the different positions of power, every member deals with the same consequences or denunciation of their actions.  For example, if one of the members messes up a hit on a werewolf, they’re all punished for it.  I’m not sure what the significance of the roman numerals at the end are though.  The roman numeral XC is that same as 90, but the number isn’t ringing any bells at the moment.”  Waverly jotted down another few words in her notebook, probably to remind her to look more into the importance of the number.

 

“As for the other writing...“  Waverly again pressed the space bar and the screen slowly zoomed in on the moon symbol just below the previous topic of conversation, blowing up the writing inside.  “This says ‘ _Red One_ ’.  If I remember correctly, The Red One is the present leader of The Order.  His name is Ewan Allenbach, but that’s about all I know about him.”  Moving on, Waverly directed the screen to zoom in on the top left part of the axe at the center of the emblem.

 

“This just reads ‘ _Hunter_ ’.  It’s on all of the Hunters’ clan’s flags, the entire emblem itself is unique to each Hunter.  They usually only show differences in color, showing the different ranks throughout the clan, and then the names are obviously different.  Like down here…”  You watched the screen zoom in on the lower right part of the axe.  “...reads, ‘ _Cocidius Yaxkin_ ’, which, now that I’m thinking about it, if this is Ewan’s symbol, it might be his alias.

 

“ _Cocidius_ literally means ‘ _the Red One_ ’, but Cocidius was also considered the Celtic god of hunting and forests.  The Romans often equated him with the Roman gods, Mars, and Silvanus, the god of hunting and war and forests and fields.   _Yaxkin_ , on the other hand, translates to ‘ _new or strong sun_ ’ in Mayan, referring to the Mayan calendar.  Or...if you’re familiar with _Stargate_ , the Yaxkin were a human race from the planet of the same name, but that’s...irrelevant…”  Waverly mentioned the last bit in a slight rush, as if she was simply thinking out loud.  The wolf was hanging on to every word that came out of Waverly’s mouth and you could feel a sense of adoration for the girl bubble up in your chest.  You weren’t entirely sure it was solely coming from the wolf though.

 

You were too busy staring at Waverly and nearly missed Jeremy raise his hand, talking before anyone could have a chance to acknowledge him.  He was saying something about a portal and wildly gesturing with his hands.  Waverly was the only one who seemed to know what he was going on about and soon enough she was matching his movements.  You just happened to catch Wynonna roll her eyes and elbowed her in the side before Dolls cleared his throat, trying to get everyone back on track.  Honestly, you had no problem with watching Waverly’s eyes light up while talking about some sci-fi show, but you would also rather not have the debriefing go on any longer than necessary.

 

“ _Right_ , anyway, as for the emblem itself,”  The image then zoomed out, showing the picture of the entire flag again.  “it looks like a double-headed axe placed over a labyrinth.  The word labyrinth is thought to have been derived from the Greek word labyrinthos.  In Greek mythology, the labyrinth was designed by an architect hired by King Minos of Crete to hide his wife’s son that she had after having sex with a bull sent down by Zeus.  The child was born a Minotaur, half man-half bull.  King Minos, embarrassed by the betrayal, but not wanting to kill the Minotaur, hid it within the labyrinth.  He later imprisoned his enemies inside the maze and allowed the Minotaur to devour the men.  In this case, though, I’m sure it’s referring to the symbolism behind the labyrinth; Here, it combines the imagery of the circle, obvious by the shape of the emblem, with the shape of the ‘spiral’ into a sinuous passage, representing a sort of ‘internal journey’, probably referencing becoming a Hunter and a part of The Order.

 

“The double-headed axe could be related to labrys - the Greek term for a symmetrical, double-bitted axe.  It’s one of the oldest symbols of Greek civilization and was widely associated with women held in powerful positions within Minoan societies.

 

“The kind of upside down moon with the three drops under it is a Wiccan moon symbol of blessing.  It represents the blessings of the moon goddess, tying in with the whole labrys and women in powerful positions bit.  The three drops below are said to represent the Mother, the Maiden, and the Crone, but that’s continuously debated.  The moon itself, is one of many alchemical symbols for silver.  Silver is considered feminine and is associated with purity, which then leads to the whole silver being used to repel or kill those that are _‘impure’_ : demons, witches, werewolves, vampires, etc.  The moon looks to be either waxing or waning and according to Wiccan beliefs, a waxing phase of the moon represents new beginnings, new life, and rejuvenation.  A waning moon represents a time to do banishing magic and to send things away.  If I had to guess, I’d go with the latter, but I guess it could be a combination of both.

 

“Now, regarding these red marks, I’m not exactly sure on their meaning, but it could be a number of things.  I mean, horizontal lines have a completely different meaning from diagonal lines, but they could also simply be tally marks; for what, I’m not sure, I’ll have to look more into the clan.”  Staring at the projection of the bloodied flag, you caught a glimpse of the word you saw underneath.

 

“What about the word that was written on the door?”  You asked.  Everyone else was quiet, obviously completely engrossed, or in Wynonna’s case, still half asleep.

 

“ _Ah_ , right.”  Waverly skipped ahead a few slides, passing over text and bullet points that she probably already went over, and pulls up a picture of the word, _Φονιάς_ .  Again, you couldn’t even fathom how to say it, let alone what it meant.  “It’s pronounced _foniás._  It’s Greek for-”  You caught Waverly’s eyes as they darted quickly to yours for a split second before she turned back to the projection.  “um… It’s Greek for _‘killer’_ or _‘murderer’_ , but they used the masculine version of the noun, so I’m not sure if they actually know Greek or...it doesn’t matter, the message is clear.  Anyway, there was another word…”  Waverly again skipped a couple slides, pulling up a picture of a perfectly drawn circle, a star at its center, in the middle of your cabin’s living room.  In the picture, the star is pointed downwards, with _Θηρίο_ written underneath it in the same script and medium as the word from your door.  “...it’s pronounced _thérion,_ Greek for _‘beast’_ , which I’m assuming refers more to you, Nicole, being a werewolf and doesn’t relate to the devil, despite the implication of the inverted pentacle.  It’s actually kinda funny because pentacles aren’t even satanic symbols.  Satanists pretty much _‘stole’_ the symbol and started using it for rituals, but a pentacle with the top point of the pentagram pointed down like this, symbolizes _release_ or an act of _undoing_.  The five points of the pentagram represent the five elements; fire, water, earth, wind, and spirit.  I mean, here it’s drawn in blood and that’s a bit disconcerting, but maybe they’re trying to turn you back into a human?  Although, if that’s the case, why surround the door with wolf’s bane and prevent you from even entering the cabin…?”

 

As the powerpoint came to a close and the black screen was projected onto the wall, Wynonna, mid-stretch, muttered, “Well, they sound like a bunch of crazies to me,” at the same time you said  “Okay, so...that was a lot.”  Ignoring Wynonna, Waverly shuffled from foot to foot, catching your eye and refusing to look away.

 

“In summary, you’re being hunted by a group of individuals that might want to kill you, but also might think they can _‘save’_ you and they may or may not be able to wield actual magic…?”

 

“ _Great_ .  I’m being stalked by a bunch of Hogwarts dropouts who have ties with demons.”  You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated, breaking eye contact with Waverly.  After all of that, you still didn’t know the _why_ .  Why _you_?  Had you just happened to be the only werewolf in the area and Jack needed a test subject?  Or did they know about you…  The wolf seemed just as lost as you were.

 

You were brought back out of your head when Waverly shrugged and mumbled, “Technically, they’d be Hogwarts _expellees_ , considering the lack of wands and obvious intent of  _evildoing_ , but...”

 

“ _Nerds_.”

 

“Shut up, Wynon-”  You cut yourself off when a feeling of absolute terror hit you in the chest like a freight train and a distant, low whistling filled your ears.  The sound was erratic and all over the place in pitch and tempo.  The wolf was immediately on edge, but you also felt her start a desperate war within herself.  She was almost pulling you toward something, but trying just as hard to fight against it.  You noticed the whistling getting nearer and with it, the wolf’s resolve seemed to diminish the louder it got.  It was starting to get harder to stay sitting in your chair.  “Um, you guys...does anyone else hear that?”


	8. stupid dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole's small problem turns into a larger one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter /: I went back and forth for like an hour on whether or not I wanted to post it yet, or wait.

You felt like you needed to yell to be heard over the whistling, but as it turned out, the others  _ couldn’t  _ hear it.  Waverly asked you to describe what you were hearing and you could only come up with ‘ _ an annoyingly loud whistling sound’ _ , but apparently she knew exactly what you were talking about.  In fact everyone seemed to realize it at the same moment. Everyone’s faces pretty much had the same wide-eyed panicked look, except Wynonna, who was outright laughing, and Eliza who had the decency to  _ try  _ not to laugh and was at least attempting to get Wynonna to stop.

 

Apparently you were the only one who knew absolutely  _ nothing  _ when it came to Hunters.  Recently, you’d been finding yourself wishing more and more that there was some sort of handbook or university course that went over all of this werewolf shit.  Now that your life was on the line, it was starting to look like the whole  _ learn-as-you-go _ route wasn’t going to cut it much longer.  Good thing you had Waverly.

 

“Hunters sometimes use whistles, essentially  _ dog  _ whistles, that emit such a high-pitched sound  _ only  _ werewolves can hear it.  Humans, domesticated dogs, regular wolves, they can’t.  It’s meant to lure in werewolves or cause them to turn in public and out themselves.  It’s kind of a lazy tactic, if you ask me, but it’s effective. Can you still hear it?”

 

You sighed, shaking your head.  At this point you were just  _ tired  _ of everything.  You don’t even know what you  _ did  _ to these people and they couldn’t leave you alone for a full 24 hours.  You scoffed. “No, it stopped, but that’s so  _ dumb _ .  They really think they can just- I’m not going to be  _ lured to my death _ by a  _ whist _ \- whi- w-  _ really _ ?  It’s back.”  This time the whistling sounded like it was literally right next to your ear.  You rubbed at your ear with a grimace, just wishing it would stop. “No one else  _ hears  _ that?!  It’s like  _ right  _ **_there_ ** .”  You frustratingly gestured toward the open door to the gun vault, your line of sight shifting to the stairs as the wolf mentally mapped out the amount of time it would take you to cover the distance.  You didn’t even realize you were right there with her, figuring it’d take as little as three strides, if you timed it right.

 

The whistling was getting a lot louder, your hands subconsciously digging into where they were grasping onto the wooden seat of the chair you were sitting on, your teeth grinding together with the effort.  Dolls quickly ran up the stairs, drawing his gun, but you weren’t really focused on him. The wolf was rapidly losing the battle to keep you both seated. You found your breath become short, you were starting to sweat with the effort, you felt increasingly panicked, like if you didn’t go find the source of the whistling  _ right  _ then something bad would happen.

 

The wolf was practically pacing holes into the fabric of your self-control.  You found yourself slightly rising out of the chair, not really having a plan in mind, but Waverly immediately jumped in front of you, placing her hands on your shoulders to hold you in place and began frantically looking around at everyone.  She looked panicked, even more than before. You knew if you just  _ pushed  _ hard enough, you’d be able to get past her easily.  The others too. (A small part of you protested against that, you didn’t want to hurt any of these people, but the whistle was doing things to you.)  The only one you’d have any trouble with would be Dolls, but he wasn’t faster than you. If you just managed to get up the stairs-

 

“Does anyone have headphones or something?!”  Waverly’s voice was high-pitched and full of anxiety.  You, nor the wolf, were expecting it and your eyes snapped to hers, a pang of guilt or hurt or  _ something  _ in your chest.  The wolf whined, audible through your throat.  She was torn. She didn’t like seeing Waverly that upset, but that damned  _ whistle _ .

 

Jeremy ended up having a pair of over-priced, stereo quality headphones and a pair of earplugs that he got from the plane on his trip over here earlier in the week.  In an attempt to not look as desperate as you probably did, you tried to downplay what the wolf was feeling. You tried to ignore the war within yourself, just to get that look off of Waverly’s face.  You forced your hands to release the chair where the wood was starting to splinter, you tried to relax your shoulders and ignore the feeling in your gut.

 

The whistling cut out, almost abruptly, and your entire body slumped at the instant relief.  “Wave, I’m fine, really, it’s just distracting. I’m not going to-” The relief didn’t last long, as it started up again in that same erratic and drastic change in tempo and key as the first time you heard it.  “Okay,  **_seriously_ ** ?!”  It came out more as a growl.  You couldn’t handle it anymore.

 

You stood up, fully intending on barreling up the stairs and out onto the front porch to give  _ someone  _ a piece of your mind, but Waverly physically pushed you back down into the chair (she was surprisingly strong) before you could even take a step.  The wolf was pulling you in multiple directions at once. You wanted to follow the noise, you almost  _ needed  _ to, but you also knew that was what the Hunters wanted.  Waverly placed herself in your line of sight, blocking your view from the vault doorway.  She almost had to force you to look at her, but with a clenched jaw, you were able to tear your eyes away from your only exit, your hands clenched into tight fists, your short nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms.

 

“Okay, Nicole, try and focus on me.  I’m going to put these ear plugs in your ears and you can wear Jeremy’s headphones with some music on.”  At the sound of your name from Waverly’s mouth, you found yourself not really able to do much else  _ but  _ focus on her.  You nodded your head, Waverly removing her hands from your shoulders to gently stuff the earplugs into your ears that Jeremy handed her.  They muffled the sound a little, but it was still just as tempting to go after it. When she put the headphones over your ears though and started playing music from a playlist on her phone, the relief was instantaneous.  It must’ve showed, because she was smiling when you looked back up at her and she didn’t look as worried as before.

 

Waverly gave you a questioning thumbs up, to which you replied with a simple nod of your head and a small smile.

 

You didn’t  _ want  _ to be lured into the depths of the forest, trapped, and either captured,  _ again _ , or this time  _ killed _ .  You also didn’t want to turn and accidently hurt someone, you didn’t know what the whistle could do, if it made the wolf more aggressive or uncontrollable.  So you silently rose from the destroyed chair, turned up the music, and locked yourself behind the safety of the silver bars, ignoring the looks everyone gave you.

 

Wynonna knew the code to unlock the door.  She was the only one that did, beside you, but you couldn’t open it from the inside.  You knew Wynonna wouldn’t risk unlocking the cage unless it was completely safe for her to do so.  Especially with her sister there. You knew it wasn’t fair to put that kind of responsibility on her like that, but Eliza and Dolls didn’t know about you when you first needed someone to let you out after the first full moon.  Wynonna found out about your secret by accident, you weren’t really intending on any of them knowing, but you realized you needed  _ someone _ and Wynonna was  _ there  _ and didn’t give a shit.

 

You couldn’t hear the whistle as well, barely at all with the headphones and the ear plugs, but when the song changed or it played a quieter harmony, if you focused hard enough, it was still there and you just wanted to be safe.  You didn’t want the others to have to go and rescue you,  _ again _ .  Put themselves in danger because of  _ you _ , again.  Just being near you seemed to have that effect on its own.  You tried not to let the guilt get to you as you lowered your body to the cement floor, lying down, hands clasped behind your head, hoping to take a nap to forget what Dolls and eventually Eliza and Doc, ran off to do.  Hopefully, they’d find whoever was out there and you could finally be useful and your friends wouldn’t have to constantly risk their lives to try and protect you.

 

You didn’t fall asleep, you couldn’t, despite how exhausted you felt.  You got through maybe three songs before you sensed Waverly hovering nearby, almost like a sixth sense.  How you knew it was Waverly?  You figured that had more to do with the wolf and whatever that almost overwhelming pull you seemed to have towards her was.  You cracked open an eye and caught her staring, her cheeks flushing a light rose when your eyes met. It was just the two of you down there now, Jeremy, Rosita, and Wynonna must’ve gone upstairs - Wynonna probably to help the guys and Eliza, and the other two to do who knows what, probably some scienc-y thing in your living room.  Waverly was actively trying to avoid your eyes, so you closed them, smirking.  You found yourself enjoying Waverly's skin the color of cerise.

 

This time, you think you did fall asleep, because when you opened your eyes again, Waverly was sitting on the floor, laptop open on her lap, a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose, and a slight crease in her brow.  She had more than a few books open on either side of her legs and a notebook that she was scribbling furiously into.

 

It took you and the wolf a minute to realize it, but the cage door was wide open and the two of you were no longer alone.

 

Tied to the corner of the cage was a man in a blood red cloak, unconscious and bound to the bars with a set of handcuffs, bleeding from a cut in his head and a hole in his thigh.

 

You wanted to react, you wanted to throw the headphones from your ears and get Waverly the hell out of there, but a more logical part of your brain told you she clearly knew about the man.  As a considerably better plan, you tried not to  _ over _ react and let the wolf let out a warning snarl, leaving the headphones on, the music on, just in case this wasn’t  _ the  _ guy.  You caught Waverly jump out of the corner of your eye, her pen flying from her hand before she grabbed her laptop and set it on the ground next to her.  Your eyes snapped to hers as she gingerly stood up.

 

“What the  _ hell... _ ?!”

 

You must’ve been louder than you thought because she kind of laughed and gestured for you to take the headphones off, mouthing that it was okay.  You were sitting up now, fully alert, as you removed the headphones, expecting to get swept up in the whistling again, but you didn’t. It was a relief.

 

“Nicole Haught, meet Ewan Allenbach, AKA The Red One.”


	9. peanut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole...deals with things?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK SUCH A TURN. Also, I just want to remind everyone of the violence TW and I’m adding one for the mention of suicide in this chapter. It’s literally only mentioned once and in a single sentence, but I thought I’d throw it out there.

You were pacing.  You didn’t usually pace, normally you were all calm, cool and collected.  Sometimes you got a little angry, sometimes the wolf had something to say, but usually you were the poster child for composure.  You had your outward appearance perfected to a tee. Your father drilled the look of confidence into you early on and you’ve been faking it for everyone else ever since.  Even in the academy and your years in law enforcement, even through ranger training. But apparently having someone, who has been trying to kill you, chained up in your basement was something that really bothered you.

 

It was nerve-racking.  It wasn’t ideal, nor was it very ethical, but neither was trying to kill you for no reason, so really it was a matter of who was the bigger evil here.  You knew, without a doubt, that Ewan Allenbach would consider you the bad guy, and past you would agree. But now, thinking back, you wanted to believe it was the unconscious man in your basement, who was the villain.

 

Dolls wouldn’t say how he managed to capture Ewan or get him back to the cabin.  You figured it didn’t really matter in the end, as long as you got something useful out of him when he woke up.  Dolls was currently keeping watch over him in the vault, the cage locked and the handcuffs still tight around his wrists.  You weren’t allowed down there until you calmed down.

 

The rest of the gang was just playing the waiting game.  Waverly was sitting on the floor, mounds of paper and her laptop open on a long wooden crate acting as a coffee table, after your previous one was destroyed in the break-in, Wynonna was half hanging off the loveseat, looking bored out of her mind, twirling her sidearm around her long index finger, focused intently on the movement.  Eliza was sitting in a chair in the corner, her eyes closed, her gun grasped securely in her hand, probably not actually anywhere near sleep. Jeremy was in the corner, trying to rig up a way to get an old television set to work, while Rosita sat at your kitchen table, reading through a stack of papers. And Doc, Doc was just standing near the front window, his hands resting on his belt, hat on his head, unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and eyes intently focused on the treeline, keeping watch for any other murderers in dark cloaks.

 

When Dolls eventually did call you down into the vault, with the news that Ewan had finally woken up, you were prepared with the file Waverly put together on him earlier, the evidence bags containing the flag he left behind and the arrow, and as a last minute sort of ‘fuck you’, you grabbed the bag with Jack’s “specialty” knife.  You descended the stairs slowly and at the bottom Dolls clapped you on the shoulder and left you to handle the interrogation by yourself, with a promise to have your back if you simply called. You didn’t expect any less, the man was almost loyal to a fault.

 

With just you and Ewan in the vault, the atmosphere was vastly different.  Now that Dolls was gone, the air almost felt stiff, suffocating. The wolf didn’t like it.  She was on edge from the second she laid eyes on Ewan, now that you were alone with him, she was almost panicked.  Something didn’t feel right.

 

Maybe you should learn to listen to the wolf more often, but Ewan was chained and locked in a werewolf-proof cage.  He was the equivalent of a single ant trapped under a glass. He was harmless. He wasn’t going anywhere.

 

Unlocking the cage put you at a greater risk, but he was still chained.  You weren’t going to make _that_ mistake.

 

Stepping into the cage, you closed the door behind you, hearing the lock slide into place once again.  The wolf’s anxiety level skyrocketed, but you ignored her. With the door closed, the both of you locked inside the cage, Ewan at least wouldn’t be able to hurt the others if something happened.  Wordlessly, you placed the evidence bags with the flag and the arrow down in front of him on the concrete, keeping the knife tucked away inside the folder still in your hands. Ewan didn’t react - he didn’t say anything, he barely glanced away from where his eyes had been locked to you from the minute you came into view.  You tried to match his nonchalance by leaning a shoulder against the door to the cage, but you were gripping the folder too tight, your shoulders were too tense, your breathing was more ragged than you would have liked. You were a bit on edge and the wolf wasn’t making it any easier to tamper the feeling down.

 

When Ewan did eventually speak, his voice matched his demeanor.  He didn’t sound scared or like he could die at any moment, he was calm, like this was something he was used to.  Or maybe he genuinely did not see you as a threat. That only managed to heighten your anxiety.

 

“I see you received my gifts.”

 

“ _Gifts_ are traditionally _wanted_ by the recipient.  I hope you didn’t expect a ‘thank you’.”  Your voice was less controlled than you hoped, but it was more laced with anger than fear.  You could deal with that.

 

“Technically the _true_ definition of a _gift_ is something given without the intent of getting something in return,” Ewan replied lazily.  You scoffed out a laugh.

 

“Then I still don’t see how this can be considered a gift.”

 

“No?  How do you mean?”

 

You pushed yourself off the cage and took a step toward the man on the floor, crossing your arms over you chest.

 

“If you didn’t want something in return, you wouldn’t have been trying to capture me.”  Ewan shook his head, eyes still focused on you. You were deliberately trying _not_ to look in his eyes.

 

“Not true.  Not true, at all.  You see, it is literally in my nature to kill werewolves.  That is what Hunters _do_.  Or did you not know that.”  He was mocking you now. He was trying to rile you up, make you angry.  It was working. You bent down onto one knee so you were level with him before replying.

 

“I know what you do.  But why me? I can’t be the only werewolf in the area…” _not that killing people just because of what they can turn into is right, but-_ “why me, _specifically_ ,”  you got straight to the point.  That seemed to be the right question to ask because immediately, his face grew into a large grin.  His busted lip cracked open again with the movement, blood staining his perfectly white teeth and the wolf’s hackles rose.  You had to stop yourself from baring your sharpened canines and giving him a reaction.

 

“Oh, Nicole.  You don’t know do you?”  The sound of your name on his lips nearly caused bile to rise in your throat.  It almost had a familiarity to it, like he knew you, like he was talking down on you.  Like a poor, small child.

 

This time you didn’t bother holding back as the wolf let out a low warning growl.  Between clenched teeth, you managed to ground out, “ _know what?_ ”  Ewan laughed, genuinely, as if you had just told a joke.  The wolf bristled. You could feel the mother in her coming out.  She wanted to wrap herself around every part of your subconscious, she wanted to protect you the only way she knew how, like she knew something you didn’t.

 

“How did this happen, Nicole?”

 

“How did _what_ happen?  You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”  He was grating your patience and he knew it. He knew he was getting to you.  He _wanted_ to get to you and you were letting him.

 

“How did you become a- a _wolf_ .”  He spit out the word _wolf_ like the word itself had personally wounded his pride.

 

“I was _bit_ , what the hell are you on about?!”

 

Apparently, he thought that fact was absolutely hilarious because he laughed again.  This time, more of a throaty chuckle, loud within the confines of the vault.

 

“So _defensive_.  Try again.”

 

“What do you mean?”  Ewan looked like he was losing his patience.  He finally lost his composure enough to roll his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

 

“Where are the _marks_ , Nicole, you have no _scar_.”

 

Your brows furrowed.  He shouldn’t _know_ that.  He shouldn’t know that your hip no longer bared any proof of what happened, what turned you into something equivalent to the devil in his book.

 

“How do you- _so_?  The bite didn’t scar, it healed.  I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”

 

“They _always_ scar.  A _true_ bite _always_ scars.”

 

 _A true bite?  What did he mean by_ that _?_ The wolf was uncomfortable, almost guilty.  Again, like she knew something you didn’t.

 

“Then what are you saying…?”  You weren’t sure you even wanted to know the answer.

 

Ewan smiled, but didn’t say anything.  He just stared at you, watching you, waiting for a reaction.  One of his eyes had swollen shut and the blood from his lip was starting to drip down his chin.  Dolls really did a number on him.

 

“Answer me!”

 

“Patience, Peanut.”

 

 _Peanut_.  That single word felt like a punch to the gut.  And it hurt. Tears immediately sprang to your eyes and whatever air was left in your lungs, escaped in a shallow exhale as your entire body recoiled, nearly knocking you backwards, Ewan’s file folder falling from your grasp.  The wolf felt your pain and tried to shelter you from it as much as she could, but the warmth only felt suffocating. She howled long and low, desperate. You pushed back, pushed her away.

 

You managed to barely choke out, “What did you just say?”

 

“Now, you’re getting it.”

 

“How do you know that- Why did you…?  Don’t call me that.” You really wanted to sound brave and like you knew what you were doing, but you barely stuttered through the sentence, your voice shaking and weak.  Shaking your head, you backed away from Ewan, wanting to put distance between the two of you. You were reaching your limit, but at this point, you needed to keep going, you couldn’t lose yourself now.

 

“I had such high hopes for you, Nicole.  You were showing no signs. Your father never said-”

 

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about my father!”  Your entire body was shaking with a cocktail of too many emotions that you hadn’t let yourself be exposed to in years.

 

“He was a friend.”

 

“Like _hell-_ ”

 

“And a good asset, before he went and fell in love with a _mongrel_.”  He spit out the word like it was Bitrex on his tongue.

 

What he was insinuating wasn’t possible...was it?  Your father was a good man, a decorated war veteran before he died, there was no way he was involved with these people, right?  And your mother? She wasn’t a-- like _you_ , right??

 

“You’re _lying_.”  You didn’t believe the words even as they left your own mouth.  His words were said with so much conviction that you felt wrong for thinking for even a second that he could be lying.

 

“You should research your family before you make anymore assumptions.”  By the tone of his voice, you could tell you had struck a nerve.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”  Your attempt was weak. You just wanted him to be wrong.

 

“Your mother was a _Caine_ \- the last of a long lineage of very powerful Lycans.  The Caine name is very well-known to all Hunters, Nicole.  Your father knew that, but he fell for her anyway. He had _offspring_ with a _Caine_ .  He didn’t _listen_ to us.”  His voice rose with every word, he was leaning forward, towards you, holding your attention, almost pleading for you to believe him.  He didn’t say the exact words, but you knew how to read between the lines. You knew what he was saying without him needing to actually say it and surprisingly, you felt a sort of calm take over.  You had come to terms with your parents’ deaths early on, you knew they were gone and that they were never coming back. It was always more of the _how_ they had died that you felt uneasy about.  A ‘double suicide’ never quite sat right in your chest.

 

“What did you do?”  You didn’t really need to ask, but getting confirmation was drilled into you, you were taught to never assume.

 

“The _right thing_ .  The Caine bloodline should have ended when we killed your mother, but then _you_ came along.  Hailey showed no signs so we left her alone.  She didn’t need to die for your parents’ mistakes.  Your brother, on the other hand-”

 

“I don’t have a brother…” you cut him off.  Now you were sure he was mistaken.

 

“Not anymore.”

 

_No, that didn’t make any sense.  That would mean Hailey knew and she never mentioned...._

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“I killed him myself.  In fact, you look a lot like him.  You could’ve been twins.”

 

You barely registered the movement of your body lunging forward, your fist connecting with a solid cheekbone, until pain shot through your hand and up your arm as Ewan’s head snapped back and hit the bars of the cage.  He didn’t even wince. Only an annoyed sigh left his mouth.

 

“I see you got Lily’s temper,” he muttered more to himself.  You don’t think you were meant to hear it, but with the wolf’s senses, there was no way you could’ve missed it.  You punched him again, harder. This time more controlled, you were completely present behind the assault. You heard a crack, deafening in your ears.  He still didn’t seem to be too bothered by it though.

 

“ **_Shut up._ ** ”  The words left your mouth as a nasty snarl, your upper lip curled back, teeth bared.  Ewan only sat there, watching you with a raised eyebrow, as if he was silently asking if you were finished acting like a child.  His nose was spouting blood like a faucet, running down his chin and even further down his neck, pooling at the collar of his cloak.

 

It wasn’t long after that that the cavalry decided it was time to step in.  Dolls, Wynonna, and Waverly came rushing down the stairs to find you walking in a straight line, back and forth, in front Ewan, your hands clasped tightly together on top of your head, chest heaving, the knuckles of your right hand bruised and bloodied, cheeks wet with fresh tears.

 

Dolls’ first instinct was to remove you from the situation, but only you or Wynonna could get you out of the cage.  Waverly stopped short, taking in the scene in front of her from the bottom of the vault steps. Before Wynonna could enter the code completely, to unlock the door, Ewan, under his breath and only loud enough that you just barely managed to catch it, muttered, in a poorly matched British accent, “If something’s wrong with the _bitch_ , then something’s wrong with the _pup._ ”  And you lost it.

 

The wolf didn’t sit back and let you have this one, she put everything into getting to Ewan before he could say something else.  Your hands were inches from his throat when you heard the lock to the cage door slide open and someone else enter the cage. Your hands didn’t make it much further though before your body flew backwards, as if it was attached to a tether that suddenly pulled taut and jerked you back.  The force was so strong, your head bounced off the wall like a basketball on a court, with a sickening crack. Your vision faded in and out, your focus swimming into blurs of twirling motion. You heard a gasp from who you thought was Waverly before a ear-splitting shot rang out and you were left momentarily deaf as a warm substance splattered across your chest and over the right side of your face.  Your eyes instinctively squeezed shut, but you just managed to see the crippled form of Ewan Allenbach fall to the ground at your feet, Jack’s knife clattering against the cement as it fell from his limp hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How ‘bout that foreshadowing though?


	10. earps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole is a little upset, but who can blame her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next few chapters (up to chapter 13/14) outlined, so hopefully i’ll get the updates up a bit quicker than this last one!

It took you a minute to actually realize what happened.  Whether your brain was still in a fog from nearly cracking your skull against a cement block, or from trying to wrap itself around the entire situation as a whole, you weren’t sure.  But when you finally did register the loud ringing in your ears as a result of a resounding gun shot in a small space, and the warm substance dripping down your chest as the blood of the man at your feet, you suddenly found yourself  _ livid _ .  Not quite blind with rage, but you were quite literally seeing red and it had nothing to do with the blood and possible brain matter speckled across your skin.

 

“No, no, no, _no_ **_no_**!  What did you do?!”  Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears, slightly muffled - as if you were listening to the conversation from the bottom of a pool - and desperate, angry.  There was an edge to it that you think might have been less _you_ and more _the wolf_ , but it had its desired effect either way when you physically felt the tension in the room build.

 

Your eyes snapped up from where they were glued to Ewan’s lifeless body and the pool of thick, red blood pouring from the hole in his forehead, to where Waverly was still standing at the bottom of the vault steps.  Through a filter of red, you watched her eyes grow comically wide, staring unfocused at the result of her pulling the trigger. Her hands were shaking so much that it took you a second to realize it was Wynonna’s sidearm grasped painfully in her hands, still aimed where Ewan had been standing.

 

You watched as Wynonna took a careful, calculated step in Waverly’s direction, her eyes never leaving you.  You noticed a flash of something akin to fear cross her features, but it only lasted a second before it was expertly masked and she was slowly reaching out to take her gun back, as if any sudden movement would cause you, or Waverly for that matter, to do  _ something _ .  Was she scared of you?  Was  _ Wynonna Earp _ actually afraid of what you might do because of her sister?  Wynonna Earp didn’t scare easily. Normally, the thought of anyone, especially  _ Wynonna _ , being scared of you would have made you sick to your stomach, but the only thing you were feeling at the moment was an intense feeling of dread, rage, and an emptiness you weren’t quite sure what to do with.

 

The wolf was loud inside your head, almost too loud to properly think.  She was fighting against you, trying to show _ through you _ that she didn’t want to hurt the Earp sisters.  That  _ you  _ didn’t want to hurt them.  You were just so  _ angry _ .  This man was involved with the murder of your parents and you didn’t get the answers you needed to hear.  Waverly killed him without a second thought. You weren’t going to get those answers. The wolf understood your pain, your vexation as much as she could, but she didn’t witness it firsthand.  She wasn’t there when you found your parents’ bodies. Against your will, the wolf let out a low whine from deep in your throat, whether it was a warning or an apology that she wasn’t in control, you weren’t sure.

 

“Babygirl, I think you should go back upstairs.”  Wynonna was directly in front of Waverly now, blocking you from seeing her, using her own body as a shield.  The gesture would’ve hurt a lot more if your chest wasn’t already filled with an overwhelming sense of misery.

 

“He was going to kill her.”  Waverly’s voice was nothing more than a hollowed whisper.  If you had been able to see her face, you pictured it blank, numb.  Haunting. Completely  _ un _ -Waverly.  The wolf, and a part of yourself even, wanted to reach out to her, tell that it was okay.

 

“I know, Wave, but-”

 

“He killed my  _ parents _ ...my brother…”  Your hearing was coming back with each passing minute, but the voice that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like your own.  It was too calm and came out in a low growl that you never heard yourself make before. It wasn’t the wolf. If possible, the tension in the room grew and realizing this, Dolls took a step forward, putting himself between you and the opening of the cage door.  His eyes flashed gold like dancing flames as he snarled your name out between clenched teeth, a warning.

 

You could still see Wynonna, standing just behind Dolls, but still outside of the cage.  You watched as she reholstered the gun she took from Waverly and immediately drew the gun previously hidden in the shoulder holster under her leather jacket.  This one was equipped with a modified tranquilizer that Dolls engineered a few years back. It wasn’t something to be messed with and the barrel of the gun was pointed straight at your chest, safety off, and Wynonna’s finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

 

“Haught, don’t you  _ dare  _ think about-”

 

Dolls cut her off, his voice steady, authoritative.  “Earp, put it away. She’s not going to do anything.  _ Right _ , Nicole?”

 

You didn’t know.  You wouldn’t intentionally hurt  _ anyone _ , but you had before and you were starting to think that maybe you didn’t know yourself as well as you thought.  You could only answer with a whine, you were scared of what might come out of your mouth if you were to actually speak.  Your nails were digging into the concrete floor beneath you and your chest was heaving with every breath you took. You were starting to feel the effects of being magically thrown into a wall and the feeling of a warm substance, you were sure was blood, seeping down the back of your neck kind of made you want to throw up.

 

“Nicole, you need to calm down.”  Dolls had his hands raised in front of him and his voice was softer, like he was talking to a wounded animal backed into a corner.  In more ways than one, you could see the connection.

 

You knew he was right, but when you tried to take a deep breath it was shaky and suddenly the blood covering your chest felt all kinds of wrong and you needed it  _ off _ .  You tried to stand up, but your head immediately started swimming the second you got to your feet.  You took an unsteady step forward and nearly fell before you caught yourself on the wall and closed your eyes, resting your forehead against the cool cement.  You took another shaky breath and opened your eyes, focusing on Wynonna. Your vision was no longer tinted red.

 

“Haught, you’re my best friend, but I will  _ not  _ hesitate to shoot you if you take one more step towards my sister!”  She didn’t want to pull the trigger, you could hear it in the way her voice shook, but she cocked the gun anyway and lined up her shot.  Your heart sunk. You remember thinking briefly about what the others were thinking upstairs, or if they could even hear what was happening just below their feet.

 

“ _ Earp _ !”  Dolls had a hand up in front of the barrel of Wynonna’s gun and the other still outstretched towards you.  He was facing her now, but her eyes were focused completely on you, watching for any sign that you might make a move.  Every muscle in her body was taught with anticipation, her jaw was clenched so hard you could see the muscles working in her cheeks.  You did that. You  _ caused that _ .

 

With another deep breath, followed by a sigh, you looked straight into Wynonna’s eyes and tried to tell her, without words, that you weren’t going to hurt her or Waverly.  Whatever anger you felt was gone and you were just exhausted. Your body was tired, your mind was tired, you just wanted this all to stop. All the Hunter bullshit, all the killing.  You wanted everything to just stop for one  _ goddamn  _ second.

 

Defeated, you carefully stepped away from the wall and took a slow step towards Dolls.  If Wynonna still wanted to shoot you, you would understand. A part of you wished she would, just so you could get a few hours rest and hopefully wake up to a lot less emotional turmoil.  You took another step forward and whispered, “Move.” Dolls obeyed, albeit with caution when Wynonna didn’t immediately lower her gun. As non-threatening as possible, you managed to take the few final steps to the open cage door, having to lean into it for support for a few seconds before you could continue.  Wynonna kept her gun trained on you, even as you averted your eyes to the ground in front of you and shakily passed her on your way to the vault stairs. You didn’t want to see the look in her eye if she actually did decide to shoot you.

 

You had planned on passing Waverly just as you had Wynonna, but then she had to go and whisper, “I’m sorry,” and the way she said it, so genuine and so  _ Waverly _ , it made you pause.  You wanted to say something.  You wanted to tell her it was fine, that you could probably get the story out of another member of The Order or that you could live not knowing, no matter how much of a lie that would have been, but you didn’t.  You didn’t say anything. You just clenched your jaw and kept your eyes focused on the ground in front of you, on the steps leading out of the vault. You only looked up when you nearly ran into Doc on your way out the front door.

 

You must’ve looked downright  _ rough  _ when you came up the basement stairs.  Doc was trying to hide the fact that his eyes had grown twice their size the moment he saw you, someone let out a gasp, someone else stood up but ultimately decided against moving any closer, and you faintly heard an audible gulp from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen.

 

“Officer Haught, are you alright?”

 

You had no reason to rude to him, he did nothing wrong, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to answer because clearly you were  _ anything  _ but alright and instead, you ignored him and continued to the front door.  You swung the door open, not caring if it happened to come off its hinges again, before stepping out onto the front porch, not bothering to stop before jumping from the top step.  You were still mid-transformation when you hit the ground, causing you to stumble a bit in the snow after landing on your wrist wrong. You barely managed to hold back a whimper and limped foreword until you were bounding toward the treeline at a full sprint.

* * *

 

Your intention was to clear your head.

 

You wanted to forget Ewan ever existed, forget The Order.  You wanted to forget the look on Wynonna’s face before she pulled her gun on you.  You wanted to forget the sound of Waverly’s voice cracking as she apologized for  _ saving your life _ .  You just wanted to forget the last month entirely.

 

So you ran.

 

You ran and you ran.  You ran until you didn’t recognize where you were anymore, until you physically had to stop because if you had continued running, you would’ve ended up at the bottom of a ravine, where a narrow river was cutting through the bedrock.  By then, the sun had just about finished setting in the sky and was casting purples and reds and deep blues through the clouds. You caught your breath by following the edge of the cliffs to a waterfall you never even knew existed and you jumped down a few rock formations, eventually landing into the mouth of the river below.  You took the time to wash Ewan’s blood from your fur and with it, washing him from your mind for the time being, but now that you weren’t focused on not running into trees or falling off cliffs, your mind wandered back to Waverly and try as you might, you couldn’t get her out of your head. So, you did the only thing you knew that would, without a doubt, completely shut your brain off.  You let the wolf out.

 

The last thing you remembered was the haunting howl she let out as you let her take control.

* * *

 

When you eventually came to, the sun was blinding, sitting mockingly at the highest point in the sky.  You were curled up in the middle of a clearing, the snow only disturbed by two sets of prints. One of them the wolf’s, the other belonging to the moose whose carcass laid directly next to you.  You groaned, only then tasting the coppery mess on your tongue. You spit to try and get rid of it, nearly gagging, only to notice the blood caked under your fingernails and dried on your pale skin.

 

“ _ Seriously _ ?”  You imagined the wolf lazily shrugging in response.  Honestly, you couldn’t blame her for getting a kill, you did leave the cabin without grabbing anything to eat and you hadn’t had anything for breakfast.  Not that you were hungry at the time anyway, but still. It wasn’t a human and you were thankful for that at least.

 

You decided to walk back to the cabin as Nicole the (very naked) human, rather than turning.  You used the cold to sort of ground you, make you think about how you acted the day before. You imagined Wynonna, pissed as all hell, Waverly, worried, but trying not to show it.  You started to walk a little faster.

 

You found your bearings pretty quickly after coming across one of the trails you regularly patrolled, the thought of coming across another human in your state, never crossing your mind.  At least the wolf had the decency to get you somewhat close to home.

 

By the time you were coming up on the clearing where your cabin sat, the afternoon was quickly turning into evening and you found yourself even more exhausted than the night before.

 

You walked through the door, filthy, wet, and your teeth chattering, not bothering to cover yourself, too tired to care, not that it mattered anyway, the cabin was empty.  You figured everyone was either in the vault or out doing their job and patrolling the area. You made a beeline straight to the bathroom with plans of washing up properly and heading straight to bed.

 

You allowed yourself a longer shower than usual, really making sure there was no trace of any remaining blood.  You stayed under the spray of the showerhead until the water no longer scalded your skin and the tips of your fingers were well passed pruned.  With a towel wrapped around your body, you exited the bathroom only to find Wynonna waiting for you, fist raised. You didn’t get a chance to move out of the way before she was cocking her elbow back and landing a solid punch to your left shoulder and calling you an idiot.  You totally deserved it.

 

“Ah,  _ fuck  _ Wynonna!”  The punch sent you stumbling back into the bathroom and right into the single sink.  You could feel the bruises start to form immediately. If you weren’t sure they’d heal in a few days at most, you would’ve been more worried about internal bleeding.

 

“Just be glad it wasn’t your face.”  You were. Wynonna had a mean right hook that you only ever witnessed secondhand.  You had no desire to turn that into a firsthand experience.

 

“Feel better?”

 

“Very much so.”

 

As soon as Wynonna stepped back to let you pass, you did.  You didn’t want to take a chance that she may have changed her mind about landing one to your jaw.  You barely made it into your bedroom before she was following you and taking a seat on your bed, berating you like a child about how dangerous running out there with no protection was.  How you could have run into another member of The Order and gotten yourself dognapped again, or this time killed. How worried the rest of them were.

 

If you felt bad before, now you just felt ashamed and  _ guilty  _ and the wolf was giving you hell about it.  You  _ know  _ you shouldn’t have run out there like you did, but it was either that or lock yourself in the vault and get rid of your anger another way.  You didn’t tell Wynonna that though, she probably would have punched you again just for good measure. She scolded you the entire time you searched your drawers for something to sleep in, the entire time you took to get dressed, only pausing to laugh at the wince you failed miserably to hide when you were slipping a shirt over your head.  She even followed you back into the bathroom and talked your ear off while you brushed your teeth, cleaning any remaining moose meat from your mouth. She only stopped when you finally set your toothbrush down and turned to face her completely. She finally must have noticed how tired you were, mentally and physically, because she stopped talking mid-sentence and with a straight face, but with the slightest hint of something resembling her version of familial  _ love _ , told you you looked like shit.  The wolf silently agreed, but you were too exhausted to fight either of them on it.

 

“ _ Thanks _ , Wynonna.  I’m going to bed.”  She didn’t try to stop you again.

 

You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow on the bottom bunk and the scent of coconut and lavender filled your nose.

* * *

 

If you thought Wynonna was scary when she was angry, Waverly was terrifying.  It was all in the eyes with that one, pure fury living just under the surface.

 

You didn’t even get a chance to wake up properly before she was coming at you in a similar fashion to the way Wynonna did.  This time you only wanted a cup of coffee, but you barely made it a step outside your room when you found yourself flat on your ass with two sore shoulders, and now a sore bottom.  You only laid there and groaned while Waverly called you a big, stupid idiot from the bedroom doorway, while Wynonna was just cackling away in the other room. Eventually, Waverly stomped off to do  _ something  _ and you found yourself glaring at Wynonna.  She was sitting on top of the counter, grinning like a child on Christmas morning.

 

You muttered, “ _ Earps _ ,” under your breath as you gathered yourself up off the hardwood floor, shaking your head and trying to pretend like the power behind Waverly’s punch hadn’t taken you by surprise.  Her right hook was just as bad as Wynonna’s, if not worse.

 

The three of you weren’t alone it seemed.  The second you finally stepped out of your bedroom, you found yourself face to face with an overeager Eliza.

 

“Is it punch Nicole day?!”  She was practically giddy with excitement.

 

You replied with a concrete  _ ‘no’  _ the same time Wynonna yelled out  _ ‘yes’ _ .  You were saved by any further assault though, when Dolls came up the vault steps and  _ ordered  _ you to take a seat at the kitchen table.  You only rolled your eyes once, but you didn’t really have a choice when he practically pushed you into the chair anyway so he could look at where your head nearly went through the wall the previous afternoon.

 

While Dolls checked your pupils and prodded the back of your skull with a gloved hand, Waverly placed a mug down in front of you at the table with a scowl and a mumbled, “it’s decaf,” before going to sit on the couch with a book.  You wrinkled your nose at the cup of brown liquid, but figured it was best you didn’t have caffeine after Dolls told you you still had a minor concussion, despite the wolf’s healing abilities. You chalked it up to the full moon being so close.

 

When Dolls dismissed you, you tentatively took a seat at the other end of the couch from Waverly, coffee in hand.  The couch was so small, your feet were practically touching. Waverly didn’t look at you, she barely even acknowledged you were there, keeping her nose in the book she held up in front of her face, but she didn’t move away either.  In fact, the rest of the day, she was never further than an arms length away.  The wolf _loved_ it.  And maybe you did a little bit too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The team is back in the woods next chapter and I’m starting to think they should all just quit working for the Purgatory National Park System and get nice jobs in quaint little coffee shops or bookstores in Europe or someplace nowhere near the GRT.


	11. lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly tries to make amends, but something happens and her plan gets a bit derailed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Your job as a ranger had taken a semi-permanent seat on the backburner as of late and you were starting to go a tad stir crazy.  Dolls had written it up as temporary medical leave for the rest of the month and, considering everything went according to plan with the full moon, you were to start back up mid-January.  Surprisingly enough, it was Wynonna who suggested you get back out there on patrol with the rest of the gang a little early, and you (and the wolf) eagerly accepted. What was even more surprising was Waverly volunteering to go along with you under the pretense of researching the area, to which you immediately protested against, consciously ignoring the wolf at the back of your head who was all for it.  It wasn’t that you  _ didn’t  _ want her to go with you, or that you didn’t think she couldn’t handle herself, no matter how against the rules and unsafe it was to allow a civilian out on patrol with you without the proper write-ups and training, it was more the fact that you didn’t think  _ you  _ could handle it.  Honestly, the woods were proving to be more and more dangerous everyday and with Waverly out there patrolling with you, you’d just be distracted and if anything happened to her because of you...well, you didn’t really want to think about what the consequences of that would be.  But then Waverly was looking at you with her big, pleading hazel eyes and Wynonna was actively avoiding the entire conversation and you’re almost positive it was the wolf who answered for you (in a moment of weakness) before you even had a chance to put your foot down.

 

Before you knew it, you were packing two backpacks full of essentials and emergency overnight supplies and Waverly was grabbing her camera and a notebook and her oversized winter coat, mittens, and scarf and leading you (yes,  _ she  _ was leading  _ you _ , no matter how much you tried to deny it) down a path that had previously been marked as closed off for the winter.  You figured if she was going to go with you, you would at least make your job a bit easier and focus on cleaning up the trail a bit for when you reopened it in the spring.  It wouldn’t take a lot of concentration on your part and you and the wolf could keep an ear out for anything unusual.

 

The two -  _ three  _ \- of you walked for awhile in silence, with you occasionally bending over to move a log that was in the way, to cut down vines that were starting to grow a tad too wildly along the path, or stopping to mark trees that looked deader than a doornail.  Waverly just walked alongside you, sometimes behind you if the path wasn’t wide enough, jotting down things in her notebook or pausing to take a quick picture along the way. You figured Waverly was still mad at you for disappearing for an entire day and that was why she was keeping quiet, but whenever you looked to make sure she wasn’t falling too far behind, you always caught her staring at the back of your head or the side of your face, almost like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words or bring herself to say what she wanted.  Usually, you wouldn’t mind the quiet while patrolling. Today, apparently it was too much.

 

“If you want to yell at me, can you do it already?  The anticipation is killing me here.” You were only half joking, a small smirk on your lips, but Waverly stopped mid-stride and turned to face you head on, the smirk immediately falling from your face.  You half expected her to immediately go off on you, even the wolf backed into a corner, fully prepared to take the hit.

 

Except, she didn’t.

 

She just looked at you with a furrowed brow for a couple of seconds before sighing as her features relaxed.

 

“Yell at you?  Nicole, I didn’t want to go on patrol with you so I could  _ yell  _ at you.”  You must’ve looked confused as all hell because she shook her head and huffed out a laugh, a small smile coming to her lips.  “Sure, what you did was  _ stupid  _ and  _ reckless _ , but you’re a grown ass woman and you know these woods like the back of your hand.  And I’m sure that before all this Hunter crap started, you wouldn’t have thought twice about taking off like that...  No, I uh-” She paused to run a hand through her hair, but realized pretty quickly that she had braided it before the two of you left and ultimately let her hand fall limply to her side before continuing.  “-I actually wanted to apologize...”

 

“ _ Apologize _ ?  For what?”  You were a little taken aback.   _ She  _ wanted to apologize to  _ you _ ?   _ You  _ should be the one apologizing.   _ You’re  _ the one who left without telling anyone where you were going or when you’d be back.  You even had Wynonna worried for Pete’s sake, no matter how much she pretended not to be.

 

“Yeah, for uh...for Ewan...  I know you-”

 

_ Oh, that _ .

 

“No, Waves, it’s fine.  I kinda overreacted. Like,  _ a lot _ .”  You fully intended on leaving it at that.  You weren’t going to bring it up again. It was in the past.  Waverly literally saved your life and you got upset over it.  _ More  _ than upset.  You fully embarrassed yourself, you didn’t need to relive it.  You had even started walking again, as a way for Waverly to get that, but then she grabbed your wrist.

 

“Wait.”

 

“No, really.  It’s okay, I-”

 

“ _ No _ , Nicole,  _ look _ .”  Her eyes were trained straight ahead, focused further down the path.  You followed her line of sight and could just make out something a bright yellow, too yellow to be anything natural, especially this time of year.  The first thought that came to mind was someone set up camp outside of the designated campsites. That was a huge no-no out here, especially on a closed path  _ and  _ during the off season.  Whoever was there could be looking at a hefty fine, a court appearance, and even a lifetime ban from the park itself.  It was also a lot of paperwork that you weren’t looking forward to filling out.

 

With Waverly still gripping onto your forearm like a vise, you began walking toward the yellow beacon in a forest of nothing but browns and blinding white.  At first, the tent looked like any ordinary tent. It was the typical size for two people looking to spend a weekend away from the city life, or even a lone traveler on a journey of self-discovery.  There was nothing that immediately caught your eye. But as you got closer, the wolf grew more and more uncomfortable and you felt it deep in your gut. You even noticed Waverly’s grip on your arm growing tighter with every step.  Something wasn’t right.

 

Looking around, the chosen camping spot wasn’t anywhere special.  You usually tended to find abandoned camps set up on riverbeds or on cliffs overlooking the entirety of the park.  Typically somewhere breathtakingly beautiful, where one could wake up and watch the sunrise with the morning loons.  This tent however, was just set up on a random trail. A haunting thought crossed your mind that it was put here  _ because  _ the trail was random and overgrown and closed off and therefore didn’t have much foot traffic.

 

Waverly stayed standing on the trail while you went to go check out the site.  It was no more than a few paces into the brush, but it was so overgrown that you had to maneuver through it carefully, avoiding getting poked in the eye with a wayward stick or vine of thorns the entire way in.

 

A closer look at the tent itself, proved that it looked to have been there for some time.  The material of the tent was dingy and faded, but in perfect condition. The fabric wasn’t torn and looked to be well cared for and the ground stakes were perfectly secured in the ground.  There was even a tarp placed under the bottom of the tent. Something about the scene in front of you was wrong though. Every part of you was telling you to turn around, head back to the trail, and take Waverly back to the cabin.  The wolf even agreed with you on that. But it was protocol to go through the remains of an abandoned campsite and the cop in you was telling you to unzip the door and look inside.

 

“ _ Fucking hell, _ it's a tent, Haught.  It's not like you've never come across an abandoned site...”   _ but what if it wasn’t abandoned? _

 

With a knot in the pit of your stomach and goosebumps up and down your arms, you slowly unzipped the tent flap.  The wolf wasn’t too thrilled about it, but she kept quiet. Immediately, the smell of campfire smoke invaded your senses and normally that wouldn’t be shocking in the woods, near a campsite, but the smell was only coming from inside the tent and there were no signs of a recent campfire on the ground in the surrounding area.  You were just glad you didn’t smell anything dead and rotting in there. Using your issued baton, you moved the tent flap to the side to get a better look and ducked your head inside the opening.

 

Inside the tent, open and looked to be just thrown in haphazardly, was a light sleeping bag, usually used for camping in the summer months when the days were hot and the nights humid.  It wasn’t insulated, nor were there any other blankets visible. There were a few pairs of colorful children’s clothing in one of the corners, all covered in dirt and dead leaves and you could see the top of a stuffed bear poking out from beneath the pile.  In an unzipped duffle bag off to the side, you could make out family sized cans of non perishables - spaghettios looked to be a favorite - and there was also a tupperware container of what looked like leftovers from a baked beans and rice dinner, along with an unopened 24 pack of water bottles.  After moving the sleeping bag to the side with your baton, you found a pair of pink shoes fit for a toddler, an empty package of Oreos, and a waterlogged pack of matches.

 

Your first instinct was to pack everything up and simply drop it off at Purgatory’s ranger office where Lonnie would be in charge of it.  He’d most likely put everything but the food in the lost and found for a few months and if it wasn’t claimed in the allotted time, he’d hand it back over to your team, where you’d go through the belongings and pick out what you deemed usable enough to put in one of the storage boxes near the campsites for anyone who may need any extra supplies for their trip.  But as you stood there, looking over everything in the tent, it started to become clearer and clearer that whoever had been using the equipment, was alone and unprepared. The clothing, the choice of food, the shoes...it all made you sick to your stomach. Even the wolf had a bad feeling about it.

 

Reaching for your shoulder radio, you stepped out of the tent so you wouldn’t be in an uncomfortable half crouch any longer and decided to call it in.

 

“Earp, Dolls, Shapiro, this is Haught.  We’re about 12 klicks from the North entrance of Big Deep Lake Trail.  There’s an abandoned site that looks like it’s been here for awhile. Over.”  You waited a minute for a response, but there wasn’t even static. Trying again, you held the button on the side of the mic and questioned, “Earp, Dolls, Shapiro, do you copy?  Over.” Again, nothing.

 

Dead spots were common out in the middle of nowhere so you weren’t too worried when no one answered and resorted to using your sat phone.  You pulled it from its holster on your belt and as you went to press the speed dial number for Dolls, you happened to notice the distinct lack of one perky researcher where you left her on the trail and your stomach immediately dropped to your feet, while the wolf snapped to attention.

 

Forgetting about calling the others, you yelled out to her.  “Wave?!” You waited a couple seconds, letting your eyes scan the treeline, but to no avail.  You pushed down the rising panic in your chest enough to force your feet in the direction of the trail and where you last had visual confirmation of the Earp.  You practically stumbled out of the brush and onto the path to find that Waverly was nowhere in sight. Swearing under your breath, you called out again. “ _ Waverly _ !”

 

Nothing.

 

You instinctively looked to the ground for any clue as to which direction she had possibly gone in, but the only footprints in the snow were your own.  Confused, you looked down the path from the direction you thought you had come from when you first came across the tent, but the snow was as untouched as the Dybbuk Box.

 

It didn’t make any sense.

 

In an attempt to not panic, you started talking to the wolf as if she was physically in front of you.  It didn’t really help and you sounded a little crazy, if you were being completely honest with yourself, but you were at a loss.  You walked a couple more steps to see if you had just came out of the brush at a different point than you had entered and tried the radio again.  It didn’t seem to be working, your sat phone proved to be about as useless as a brick, and now that you were paying more attention to your surroundings,  _ nothing  _ looked familiar.  You couldn’t even see the bright ass yellow tent anymore.

 

_ Had you really walked that far from where you first entered the brush? _

 

The wolf rumbled low in your chest, a sign she was  _ not  _ happy with the current turn of events, but there was nothing you could do except try and find your bearings and get yourself back to the cabin and hopefully run into Waverly on the way.  You just kept reminding yourself that she had everything she needed to survive at least an entire weekend, if she knew how to ration her food. If not, you were silently hoping she at least knew which plants to avoid.

 

You were also deliberately avoiding any and all thoughts of one Wynonna Earp.

 

Beginning down the path, you took the direction you hoped was the way you came from.  It should’ve been a straight shot back to the cabin. There weren’t any forks that you had come across when you were walking with Waverly before, but then again you weren’t even sure you were still on Big Deep Lake Trail.  You had a sick gut feeling that you were nowhere even near it.

 

After what felt like a lifetime of walking, your feet and legs sore, your body exhausted, and your stomach empty, your ears picked up on the sound of rushing water and your chest swelled with hope.  Following the sound of the water through the trees, you came across the same river you found in your haste to clear your head the previous day. This time, you weren’t looking over the cliffs and down at it in the ravine though, you were at the river’s edge, looking up at the exact spot where you stood the day before.  Knowing that in order to take the same path you took before to get back to the cabin, you had to cross the river. It wasn’t very wide, nor was it very deep, but it was pretty fucking cold. You were surprised it was even open and flowing this time of year, you would’ve expected it to be completely frozen.

 

With a pitiful whine, you gritted your teeth and forced yourself to step into the frigid river.  Your boots immediately filled with the ice cold water and you nearly turned right back around. Despite the wolfs complaints in the form of unnecessary grumbling, you continued through the knee deep stream as quickly as you could without losing your footing.

 

Safely on the snow covered rocks that made up the opposite riverbed, you stopped to roll up your soaked pant legs and remove your waterlogged boots and socks.  You figured they were a lost cause anyway and decided to just ring out any excess water and tuck your socks into the toes of the boots so you wouldn’t lose them.  As you were tying your boot laces together so you could attach them to your backpack, you felt your scalp tighten, your skin prickle, and the hair at the back of your neck stood on end.

 

A primal feeling of fear crept into your chest and the wolf let out a deep growl in form of a warning to whoever, or  _ whatever  _ was out there.  You had a hard time believing it was simply a human.  Pausing all movements, you forced yourself to stand completely still, the only thing you could hear was the erratic thumping of your heart underneath your rib cage.  The silence swept over you like a blanket on a blistering day, uncomfortable and unwelcomed. Even the water seemed to stand absolutely still.

 

You could no longer hear the natural sounds of the forest.  The trees stopped swaying, the leaves stopped rustling. There were no sounds of the surrounding wildlife.  No wings, no tiny, quick heartbeats of a nearby rabbit.

 

Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, you shakily tied your shoelaces to your backpack and bolted 50 meters up a nearby hill.  With a better look at the area surrounding the river, you forced yourself to stop and listen, holding your breath. You couldn’t see anything, the area was unnervingly empty, but the sounds of the surrounding forest were slowly coming back.

 

You continued walking at a brisk pace, nearly falling several times in your attempt to get the hell out of there.  It wasn’t even ten minutes later that you started to notice the feeling of being watched return. Your breaths grew short and rapid and it took everything you had to not allow yourself to panic.  You tightened your grip on the straps of your backpack and slowed your steps. You weren’t on a marked trail and the ground was littered in dead leaves over crisp snow. You would’ve been able to hear if anything was following you for miles.  You couldn’t smell anything but the crisp scent of the cold and fresh air, but the wolfs hackles were up and she was impatiently waiting for the go ahead -  _ that you weren’t going to give her _ \- to change.

 

You started randomly stopping mid-step and changing up your footing in hopes of hearing another set of footsteps, but after a few wholehearted tries, you didn’t hear anything except a faint escape of breath that you were 100% positive was not your own.  You told yourself it was an animal, in order to keep yourself sane, even if your body was itching to sprint as far and as fast as you could out of the area.

 

Eventually, you came across a familiar service drive that you had taken several times with the truck.  You were still on edge and you still felt something was just out of your range of sight, but this path cut straight East and would eventually lead you directly to the trail that led down to your cabin.  You were nearly radiating pure joy. And when you heard the roar of an ATV engine further down the road, you could’ve cried.

 

But as quickly as the happiness blossomed in your chest, it was snuffed out.  Like the flame of a candle in a torrential downpour.

 

The sky grew so dark it might as well have been midnight and suddenly all the hair on your body was standing straight up.  You couldn’t even make out your hand in front of your face. Whatever you were feeling earlier, it was 100 times worse now.  Your chest felt tight, your breathing started to pick up and this time you couldn’t stop it. The silence fell like a curtain and even with the wolf’s senses, you couldn’t hear a thing.  Whatever was out there, was watching you, you could feel it. It was toying with you like you were its pet.

 

And then you heard your name, cried out in what could only be described as pure terror, in a voice that unmistakingly belonged to Waverly Earp.

 

The wolf bellowed in your eardrums, like she was in physical pain, before you took off blindly in the direction of the scream.  The complete opposite direction of where you knew the service drive would lead you to safety.


	12. and found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole has no choice but to tell Wynonna what happened to her sister. There may be some threats thrown around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ (I only feel a little remorse for leaving you all with last chapter's cliffhanger. Just trust me that everything will be FINE.)

It didn’t take you long to realize you were lost.   _ Again _ .

 

Or that you had just potentially walked - more like, full-on Usain  _ Bolted  _ (ba dum tss) - yourself right into a trap...or close to one anyway.  You weren’t really sure whether finding yourself trodding up the side of a steep mountain as the weather took a turn for the worse could really be considered a trap, but you heard the scream.  It was Waverly, you were sure of it when you heard it. Your reaction was instinct - get to Waverly before anything happened to her. Yet, you hadn’t run into her or caught a whiff of her scent all afternoon and it was starting to get dark.  You were beginning to second guess what you heard, playing it on a constant loop in your head. It was torture, but it somehow worked as a sick form of motivation and a reminder that you weren’t crazy. That you heard what you heard.

 

Before you could dwell on it much further though, you heard it again.  Your name choked out between a shuddering sob. The only difference was this time, it sounded  _ off _ .  You caught the slip right away and it made your stomach plummet.   _ That  _ time, it was  _ not  _ Waverly.  It was her voice, sure, but there was an undertone of something more gravelly that you were sure you only caught onto because of the wolf’s sensitive hearing.  It sounded like something was trying to mimic her call for help and it sent a violent shudder down your spine while the wolf grew more on edge. Something was toying with you.  And it was using Waverly as bait.

 

It began to sleet heavily as the wind picked up and you had to desperately grasp onto anything in front of you to keep from falling down the slick rocks and slowing you down any further.  The mixture of the wind and sleet felt like glass cutting across the sensitive skin of your cheeks. All you could think about was that if  _ you  _ felt it, how in the hell was Waverly holding up?  Your sight distance was quickly diminishing to near nothing, but your only option was to keep pushing yourself forward.  To get to Waverly.

 

You weren’t even sure you were headed in the right direction.  Sound traveled weird in the woods. The weather wasn’t helping much either.  Even if it was a trap, whoever was out there had had Waverly at one point. Hopefully they still did.  Following the cry was your only option to get her back to Wynonna.

 

You had to have been hiking for hours before you finally reached the top of the mountain, nearly collapsing with exhaustion as you stumbled on the suddenly flat ground.  The sun had fully set, your clothes were nothing more than stiff icicles against your skin and even with the extra warmth from the wolf, your body was still shaking violently, especially now that you were no longer exerting any body heat from the climb.

 

The sleet had died down significantly, but the wind showed no signs of becoming any less ruthless.  You could at least see through your frozen eyelashes, though. Not that that was any better, it seemed, because it only took you a few seconds to realize you had crossed over into Ghost River Triangle territory.  Your mind immediately went to the last time you found yourself across the imaginary boundary and you didn’t like it, not one bit. Not to mention that prickly feeling at the back of your skull was back full force.

 

The wolf wanted to leave, she wanted to turn back around and head back down the mountain and hopefully out of the GRT, but you could barely move.  Your limbs were lethargic from the cold and lack of rest, your brain was fogged with thoughts and visions of Waverly out there alone, scared, or in trouble.  All you wanted to do was lie down in a bed underneath a pile of warm blankets and sleep a dreamless sleep, void of murderers and kidnappers.

 

Eventually, you came to an agreement.

 

You needed to rest, the wolf knew that.  You would be no use to Waverly (or yourself) if you couldn’t even stand.  So, you unpacked the tent from your backpack and began vigorously trying to set it up as the wind, and now snow, picked up around you.  It was so loud, you were sure that if you had the energy to speak, you wouldn’t actually be able to hear yourself over the roar of the wind.

 

You allowed yourself to shift, just slightly, enough to hide your bare skin from the harsh winds underneath a layer of red fur, as you staked the four corners of the tent into the frozen earth.  By the time you got your stakes in the ground and the tent up, the bottom of the tent had filled with nearly an inch of water. You didn’t have the energy to deal with it though and told yourself you’d be fine.  Your sleeping mat was waterproof. You could literally grow fur. You were  _ fine _ .  Even if your uniform was sopping wet and stuck to you in places you never wished it could reach.  You were soaked to the bone. Even your leather gloves were sopping with moisture.

 

Only when the temperature dramatically dropped in a span of seconds, did you allow yourself to change.  After carefully peeling your clothes away from your frozen body and clumsily pulling your sleeping bag from your pack, you shifted fully, only just able to fit the wolf’s body completely inside the tent.  Finally able to warm up a bit, you barely managed to lower yourself to the sleeping mat and curl your body around itself before your eyes slid closed and you were surrendering yourself to the exhaustion the day tolled on you.

* * *

 

You woke up, what felt like minutes later, to your name coming through the static of your radio and sunlight shining through the mesh of the tent and directly into your eyes.  The voice was desperate and anxious and slightly furious, but undeniably Wynonna. It took everything in you not to cry out in relief at the sound of a familiar voice.

 

“ _ Dammit _ , Haught, fucking answer me!”  Human again, you dove for the radio, half sticking out of your backpack thrown haphazardly in the corner of the tent.  You pressed the button on its side the second your cold fingers wrapped around it.

 

“I’m here, I’m here.  Wynonna, I’m here.” Your voice was barely anything more than a rasp from lack of use, but the message went through.

 

“Fuck,  _ finally _ . Where the hell are you two?!”  The relief in her voice was almost painful, but when she said, ‘ _ you two _ ’, you physically felt the stab to your chest.  Even the wolf whimpered. You couldn’t tell her you lost her sister in the woods over the radio, you had more respect for her than that.  That was a conversation meant to be had face-to-face. When you were silent for too long, she spoke again. “Give me your location and we’ll come and get you guys.”  You had no choice but to give her the coordinates displayed on your watch, strapped to the side of your backpack, and wait.

 

While you waited, you meticulously packed up the tent and your belongings, changing into your spare set of clothes, securing your utility belt around your waist, and your hat on your head.  You hoped it would clear your mind, but no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always wandered back to how you were going to tell Wynonna about her sister. You came to the conclusion that there was no easy way you could tell someone their sister was missing.

 

That  _ you  _ were responsible for something happening to Waverly.

 

You really only saw two outcomes to how that conversation was going to play out.  One, Wynonna was going to kill you. Or two, whoever was with Wynonna wouldn’t allow her to kill you, but the second you were alone...she would kill you.

 

By the time you heard the roar of snowmobiles in the distance, you had worn a line in the ground where you were pacing.  The wolf had been quiet all morning, but you could feel the anxiety coming from her in waves. Wynonna was her family too and as much as you would like to think she wasn’t the shoot first, questions later kind of person, she was Wynonna Earp and she was unpredictable.

 

You didn’t look up when the snowmobiles finally made it up the now visible path on the other side of the hill.  You only stopped pacing when they finally came to a stop not 10 feet in front of you. Wynonna was the first one to shut her motor sled off and remove her helmet.  Dolls was with her, on his own sled, following close behind.

 

“Where’s Waves?”

 

You couldn’t look her in the eye.  Yes, you were a coward, but Wynonna Earp was terrifying, you wouldn’t wish her wrath on anyone.  You focused your gaze on her boots instead; black, out of uniform, and worn at the toes. You took a deep breath.

 

“Where the hell is my sister, Nicole.”

 

She was four feet from you now and gaining ground fast.  You could see Dolls’ boots a step behind her; perfectly shined and slick with snow, but not a scuff in sight.

 

Three feet.

 

“ _ Haught _ !”

 

Two feet.

 

The amount of times you heard your name in that tone of voice over the last few days should be enough to break a world record.

 

One.

 

Your grip on the handles of your backpack tightened so your knuckles were a pale white.  You knew what was coming, all you could do was brace yourself for impact.

 

“What did you do?!”

 

Dolls couldn’t reach her in time before she threw herself into your frame, knocking the two of you to the ground, her hands balled into fists in the collar of your uniform jacket.  You landed on your back, your ass hitting the frozen earth first, taking most of the blow, knocking the wind out of you. Your shoulders hit next, the odd angles of your backpack stabbing into your back, then your head hit, probably reconcussing your brain.  Dolls was yelling something, but all you could hear was Wynonna’s voice, asking you over and over again what the hell happened out there.

 

During the fall, your hands instinctively went to hold onto Wynonna’s elbows, but as she reared her elbow back, you brought yours up to protect your face from the inevitable onslaught, your eyes squeezed shut so tightly you were beginning to see stars.  The blow never came though. You found yourself yelling that you were sorry over and over and over again, your voice raw with emotion. Seconds later Wynonna was being lifted from your body, kicking and screaming. She got a good kick to your shin before you had enough sense to back up a few feet to avoid any more flailing limbs, but flailing limbs you could deal with.  The bruises would heal. It were the words that hurt.

 

You knew you fucked up, but the look on Wynonna’s face when you told her you didn’t know, barely an exhalation of breath, really drove the realization home.

 

“What do you mean you ‘ _ don’t know _ ’?!”

 

“ _ I don’t know _ what happened, Wynonna.  One minute she was there and the next she wasn’t.  I. Don’t.  _ Know _ .”

 

By then, she had stopped fighting against Dolls.  You could practically see the comprehension fall over her features as reality hit.  The twinge in your chest didn’t get any better.

 

“I  _ need  _ you to know.”

 

“I was checking out an abandoned campsite and I left her on the trail, she was fine, she was taking pictures and taking notes, but when I turned back around she was gone.  I tried looking for her, you have to believe me. I don’t know where she is, Wy.”

 

“So help me, when we find her, if there is one misplaced hair on her innocent head, I’m going to use your hide as a rug.”  You didn’t really want to find out if her threat was empty or not. With a strong jerk of her body, Wynonna freed herself from Dolls’ grasp and without another glance in your direction, stomped back through the snow to her sled.  She slammed her helmet back on her head and readied her snowmobile just as Dolls reached his and you scrambled to your feet. You quickly closed the distance between you and the snowmobiles and without missing a beat, Wynonna yelled over the roar of the engines, “Let’s go.  You can walk.” You tried to pretend like that didn’t hurt, even as she sprayed you with snow when she positioned her snowmobile to face the direction they previously came from. The wolf’s pain was stronger than your own, it was almost crippling. You tried to tell her Wynonna was just scared and that she didn’t really mean it, but it didn’t help much.

 

Dolls turned his sled around so he was positioned next to Wynonna.  You tried not to catch his eye as you removed your backpack from your back and waited for him to be facing completely away from you before you started removing your clothes.  You stuffed your clothes in your pack and tied your boots up before changing form quickly and running to meet them. Dolls took your pack and secured it to his sled and allowed you to take the lead.  Before you began the trek though, you walked over to the side of Wynonna’s snowmobile and nudged her knee with your nose, your head low, giving her your best set of apology puppy dog eyes and a pitiful whimper.  She didn’t respond right away, completely ignoring you. It stung, you’re not gonna lie. You didn’t want to push though so you didn’t try again and with a sigh, you started to head back to the front of the group, but seconds later Wynonna placed a gloved hand to your snout and gently ran her fingers through the fur in between your eyes.  It was quick and over with before you realized, but it made the wolf happy and it warmed a little part of your heart. You’d deny it if anyone mentioned it, but you were sure your tail had even started wagging - the betraying bastard had a mind of its own half the time. You nudged Wynonna’s hand again before she could place it back on the handle.  She just shook her head and muttered, “go, you stupid dog,” but it was too softly said to be an insult. You’d take it.

 

You picked up Waverly’s scent nearly two klicks from where you set up camp, further inside the GRT.  You knew right away that it was Waverly even if the usual coconut was slightly masked with dirt and the unmistakable metallic smell of blood.  You tried not to panic at that realization, she was probably fine. Hopefully. You picked up your pace a bit anyway.

 

It wasn’t that much longer when you found yourself carelessly running into a clearing of trees, empty but for the single figure stumbling around through the snow, hair wild.  She no longer had her backpack or camera with her, in fact she barely had anything at all. She wasn’t wearing her large puffy ear muffs or her gloves, her marshmallow jacket was unzipped and ripped pieces were flapping in the wind.  She wasn’t wearing pants or her boots over the pink fuzzy socks on her feet.

 

You slid to a stop, going against every instinct in your body.  The wolf whined deep in your throat in protest. You wanted to go get Waverly and bring her back to Wynonna safe, but if this was a trap, then you wouldn’t be any use getting yourself captured.  As soon as the snowmobile engines cut off on the trail behind you, you lowered your body to the ground. You couldn’t hear anything other than the labored breathing of the three other people around you and a quiet whisper directed at Wynonna to wait.  A bird chirped in a tree nearby, a woodpecker chiseled away at the bark of another tree, the remaining leaves on the branches overhead rustled with the wind, a rabbit hopped cautiously in the brush to your left. Keeping your body low to the ground, you put your nose to the air and concentrated all of your energy into sniffing out any invisible threats.

 

Black coffee and butane.

 

Leather and campfire smoke.

 

Blood and earth.  Coconut. Flowers.

 

Exhaust and gasoline.

 

Wet dog.

 

With a nod of your head, Wynonna went out into the clearing first, your sleeping bag and uniform jacket in hand.  You stayed rooted to the ground under your feet, not wanting to get in the way. Dolls moved to stand at your right shoulder, his gun drawn, but the safety was still on and it was pointed to the ground.  Waverly had made it to the other side of the clearing and was just about to step back into the tree line, but Wynonna called out her name before she could take another step. Waverly immediately froze and you watched her body stiffen, but she didn’t turn around.  Wynonna called out to her a second time, continuing with a cautious stride. She wasn’t that far from Waverly now, only a few feet. Reaching out her arm, you heard her whisper her sister’s name for a third time. Waverly only turned to face Wynonna when she placed a hand to her shoulder, causing Waverly to flinch.  You could only see half of her face, but from what you could tell, the blood you smelled was coming from her nose and the dried line of crimson that dripped from her ear. Wynonna was saying something to her and her eyebrows crinkled in the middle in confusion as she shook her head. Wynonna carefully removed the tattered remains of Waverly’s winter coat and wasted no time in replacing it with your jacket and sleeping bag.

 

And then Wynonna was yelling your name as her voice shook.

 

It only took you a handful of strides to make it across the clearing.  When you made it to Wynonna’s side, she looked calm, but one look into her eyes and you found she was anything but.  The panic you found there was heart wrenching. She had taken a noticeable step back, away from Waverly.

 

“I don’t think she knows who I am...Or who  _ she  _ is.”

 

The wolf, more-or-less, took over at that point.  You felt yourself take a slow step in Waverly’s direction, your head low, eyes trained on hers, looking for any sign that she was scared of you.  But there was none. If anything, there was a sign of recognition. Miniscule, but there nonetheless. You nudged her hand with your nose and she was hesitant at first, but she eventually threaded her fingers through your fur.  She started petting the spot behind your ears and you immediately sensed a wave of calm wash over her. When she sat down in the wet snow, she pulled you down with her, your head in her lap, her frozen fingers never leaving the thick fur of your neck.  You used your body to shield her from the wind as much as you could. From what you could tell, Waverly was showing signs of borderline-severe hypothermia and if that was the case, it was crucial to keep her as warm and as calm as possible.

 

Wynonna left the two of you shortly after Waverly settled, heading back across the clearing.  You could hear her catching Dolls up on what the situation was and saying something about getting her to a hospital as quick as possible.  He said something about getting a helicopter to airlift her out of there. It was as good a plan as any and you were happy to simply sit there and let Waverly find comfort where she could.

 

Now that you had a better look at her, you noticed there was a trail of dried blood coming from her other ear as well.  Any visible skin was covered in fresh bruises, but there were no severe cuts, just scrapes over her legs, most likely from broken sticks or thorns.  She was alert, a little confused and possibly dehydrated, but her heartbeat was strong and she was alive.

 

It wasn’t much later that Wynonna was jogging back to the two of you, your dry pair of uniform slacks balled up in her fist and your boots hanging from her other hand.

 

“Haught, we called in an air medic team.  They’re coming from the city, but it shouldn’t take them too long to get here.  You might not want to...be in the area when they land…” You knew she was right, it would be slightly difficult to explain away a hypothermic girl cuddling with a 200 some pound red wolf that definitely wasn’t native to the area (as if that was the oddest thing about the entire situation).  But you weren’t ready to leave yet. Waverly slid your pants on and replaced her socks with yours before slipping her feet into your boots. You were nearly a head taller than she was so she was practically swimming in your clothes and the boots looked like a clown’s shoes on her, but was it selfish or at all inappropriately timed to admit that you found it pretty fucking adorable?

 

You didn’t leave Waverly’s side until you heard the chopping of the helicopter’s rotor blades cutting through the air.  You were hesitant at first, you weren’t sure if she would be comfortable with Wynonna, as shitty as that sounds. She seemed okay, though, as you made your way into the thick trees.  You made sure Waverly was in your line of sight the entire time you stalked through the brush on your way back to where Dolls was, careful to stay back far enough that you weren’t visible if one of the paramedics were to take a glance into the tree line.  You hoped they would be too focused on Waverly to pay too much attention to their surroundings.

 

You watched from the tree line, crouched down just behind Dolls, as a red helicopter landed down in the clearing, bringing up puffs of snow as it settled.  Within seconds, AMS personnel were pulling a gurney from the back of the interior and running to where Waverly was now lying on the ground, your sleeping bag wrapped around her, Wynonna at her side.  You felt her eyes on you until the second the door of the heli closed with her and Wynonna inside. You didn’t dare move out from the protection of the trees until you couldn’t hear the chopper anymore and Dolls threw you your pack.

 

He stayed until you were standing on two legs again and were changed back into your damp uniform from the previous day, sans shoes and a jacket.  He didn’t say anything when you let him take the lead and followed him all the way back to your cabin. You didn’t feel like telling him you were terrified of the only place you felt like you could be yourself.

 

The cabin was empty when the two of you got back, other than Shapiro lounging across your loveseat with a book propped up against her knees and her gun within reach on the cushion beside her.  She barely gave the two of you a second glance when you walked through the door. Dolls explained to you that the others went back to the lab in the hospital’s basement to test the blood from your cabin.  You didn’t hate it. The cabin was a lot less crowded and you were exhausted and just wanted to be able to  _ relax _ .

 

Dolls left shortly after, while the sun was still out, to go check on things at the lab and to call Wynonna for any updates.  He promised to keep you in the loop as much as he could. You watched as he disappeared down the trail towards the hospital, only shutting and locking the door when he was completely out of sight.

 

Shapiro heated up leftovers for the both of you over the open flame in the fireplace.  You ate -  _ pushed the food around your plate _ \- in silence.  She only said something when her plate and fork were washed and put away and she was sat comfortably back in her spot on the couch with a cup of warm coffee, probably left over from that morning.  She didn’t reach for her book. You kept your focus on the dancing flames inside the fireplace.

 

“Little Earp okay?”  She said after a minute.

 

“Hypothermia, amnesia, bruising.”  You sounded like you were reading the local job ads from the newspaper, your voice a disconnected monotone.

 

“Shit,” Shapiro muttered.

 

“Yeah.”  The cabin was silent for a beat, the food on your plate way past cold, the flames in the fireplace proving to be the most interesting thing in the room at that moment.

 

“Are  _ you  _ okay?”  You looked at her then, light grey/blue eyes already watching you.  You could feel the exhaustion behind your eyes, in your entire body.  You knew she saw it. You didn’t bother responding. “Right...”

 

“Yeah.”  You watched her nod her head once before picking up her book again and pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and onto her lap as she settled in for a long night.

 

“Go shower and try and get some sleep.”  You didn’t protest. Taking that as the only cue you would get, you lifted yourself  up off the floor, and left your untouched food by the sink, knowing Shapiro would eat it later.  On your way to the bathroom, she stopped you with a gentle hand to your wrist. “Haught, it’s not your fault.”

 

You shrugged, “I was there.  Kinda was.” You didn’t let her get in a rebuttal before continuing to the bathroom and closing the door behind you.  It  _ was  _ kinda your fault.  Wynonna had a right to be mad at you.  You should’ve been more alert, you should’ve paid more attention.  You should’ve let Waverly go with you.

 

There were a lot of things you should’ve done differently.  But you suppose none of that mattered now. You found her, she was okay, she was with Wynonna.

 

That didn’t erase the look on Wynonna’s face that was burned to the back of your eyelids though.

* * *

 

Your shower wasn’t nearly as long as you wanted it to be, but you could only stand under the spray of ice water for so long before even the wolf had enough of it.  Back in your bunk, you tried to sleep, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw Jack, or Ewan, or some faceless figure in a cloak dragging Waverly away from you and further into the forest.

 

The wolf kept trying to remind you that Waverly was  _ okay _ , she would be  _ fine _ , she was  _ alive _ .  But that only pushed you to remind the wolf that Waverly wouldn’t have been in the situation in the first place and it all could have been prevented if you had just went with your initial gut reaction and made her stay at the cabin.  It was a pointless cycle and your brain wouldn’t give it a rest.

 

To try and mute the voices in your head, you quietly slipped out of your bedroom and made a beeline for the front door, but you were caught before you even made it through the living area.  Shapiro was still awake on the loveseat. You could smell fresh coffee and she had a different book in her lap. At this rate, you were sure she would read through your small collection before February.

 

“Can’t sleep?”  With your back to her, you shook your head hoping she'd just drop it.  You knew you could talk to her, she was nonjudgmental for the most part, but you weren’t really in a talking mood.  “Just don’t go too far.” You nodded, acknowledging that you heard her. You didn’t really have any intention of going further than the front porch.  There was still something or  _ someone  _ lurking out there and you weren’t planning on running into them anytime soon.  “Oh, and Dolls texted about an hour ago. He said Little Earp is going to be fine.  They gave her warm fluids through an IV and her memory is coming back. He wanted you to call him though, when you’re up for it - said he had to tell you something, but that it could wait until tomorrow or after the full moon.”   _ That  _ got your attention, making you freeze.  There wasn’t a lot that Dolls didn’t share with the entire team and if he wasn’t telling Shapiro something, then it had to be big.  After the day you had though, you weren't sure you could handle any more shocking discoveries or the like.

 

“Thanks, I think I’ll just call him in the morning.”  Thinking that was the end of the conversation, you reached out to grab the doorknob and twisting the lock.

 

“No problem, pup.”  You rolled your eyes, pushing the front door open.  You were not a  _ pup _ .

 

“Not a pup, Shapiro,” you called over your shoulder, hoping to get the door closed behind you quick enough that she wouldn’t get to reply.  You forgot about your superb hearing.

 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, pup.”

 

Throwing the door back open, you stuck your head into the cabin.  “Go to bed, will ya?”

 

Shapiro smirked.  “Is that an invitation, Haught?   _ Scandalous _ .  And here I thought you were more into  _ brunettes _ .”

 

_ Into brunettes?  Pft...pfffffft. _  No one came to mind...who cares if your cheeks maybe turned a  _ slight  _ pink.  It wasn’t like Shapiro could see it through the dark anyway.

 

“You wish.”

 

You shut the door again, but not before Shapiro mumbled, “Meh, worth a shot.”  You could only laugh.

 

The night was cool, but nothing like the previous one.  The skies were clear and it wasn’t too windy to where it was biting into your flesh.  There was a slight breeze, but you welcomed it.

 

Sitting on the top step of the stairs, you laid back onto your elbows and closed your eyes, face turned towards the light of the moon.  Your skin was itching, but the full moon was less than 24 hours away and it was expected. It proved to be a welcomed distraction from the thoughts in your head.  If only the reprieve had lasted longer than a few minutes.

 

It suddenly felt like you were far too exposed, like when your leg slips off the side of the bed in the middle of the night and it’s no longer under the protection of the blanket covering the rest of your body.  Like something could slither up from the darkness and grab it at any second. You jumped up, entirely too uncomfortable. The wolf growled deep in your chest, a warning for whatever lurked just out of sight, just behind the tree line, in the shadows.

 

Not willing to risk it, you immediately went back inside, heart pounding against your ribcage.

 

“You okay?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Shapiro laughed.  You jumped slightly, not expecting her to still be up, but quickly covered it up with a shrug as you turned around and slammed the deadbolt into the lock on the door.

 

“I’m fine, just...antsy.”

 

“Full moon jitters, got it.  You want me to stay up with you?”  You didn’t think for a second that she actually believed you, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever.

 

“No, it’s fine.  Actually, go ahead and take the bunk, I’m just going to lay out here for a bit.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah, go for it.”

 

“ _ Sweeet _ .”  It was like you had given her the best news of the century.  She jumped up from the couch, grabbed her gun from the makeshift coffee table, and skipped into your room, closing the door without another word.

 

With Shapiro in the other room, the uneasiness in your stomach only grew.  Part of you wanted to go in there with her and take over the top bunk, but you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

 

To distract yourself, you took on the mindless task of cleaning your sidearm.  You took it apart and polished every separate piece with precision and care. Then you did it again. And again.  And it worked, for the most part.

 

Until your watch chirped as the numbers on the analog display changed from 23:59 to 24:00 just as a knock sounded from your front door.

 

It was quiet enough to have been mistaken by human ears, but with the wolf, there was no way you misheard it.  Three small taps in an eerily quick succession.

 

The hair at the back of your neck immediately stood on end and you tried to stay calm enough to correctly put your gun back together.  You kept your eyes trained on the door. The knob stayed still, the lock in place. Your front windows were still boarded up, preventing anyone from seeing in, or you from seeing out.

 

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest, the blood rushing so loud you could hear it in your ears.

~~~~

The wolf was on edge, panicked and seconds away from losing it.

 

You managed to push down her fear enough to stand on shaky legs as you slid the last piece of your gun in place.  With a bullet in the chamber, you flicked the safety off, steadied your arm and cautiously approached the front door.  You were silent as a mouse, not even the floorboards creaked underneath the weight of your body.

 

With a deep breath, you placed your eye up to the peephole at the top of your door and found yourself looking at...nothing.

 

There was no one there.  Not even a wayward tree branch blown down from the wind.

 

All hope of falling asleep that night quickly vanished.

 

Nothing like ringing in the New Year hopped up on adrenaline and pure fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone thinks differently, Waverly was not wearing any pants because paradoxical undressing is a thing. In some cases, someone suffering from hypothermia may become confused and disoriented and may feel the need to discard their clothing. It has something to do with the part of your brain that regulates body temperature and the relaxation of the muscles that manage your outer blood vessels - they stop working correctly so the person may feel like they're overheating, causing them to take their clothes off.
> 
> And that concludes your health lesson for the day.


	13. the wolf moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers lead to more questions, The Wolf realizes she has people, Dolls stirs the pot a bit with some new information, Waverly is stubborn and Wynonna can’t say no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dust off those cobwebs and refresh your memories, the accidental hiatus is OVER (I meant to have this up before June...BIG whoops. I was supposed to move to LA then some shit happened and then I decided to start writing a comic and then I went on vacation and lost my notes on this chapter for two months. It was a lot).
> 
> There’s some WayHaught in this one (kind of?).
> 
> Please note the POV changes from person to person in this chapter because Nicole (as Nicole) isn’t technically present for a lot of it, but I think I did an ok job at making it pretty clear who’s who and making sure you’re entertained.

**January 1, 2018**

**7:24 AM - 12 Hours until the ‘Wolf Moon’**

**Nicole, The Cabin**

 

You were on edge and a complete mess all night; the tiniest of noises would make you nearly jump out of your skin, even the wolf was skittish, but you could chalk that up to the full moon.  Needles to say, you didn’t sleep well, or at all if you were being completely honest. Your body was a vat of high-strung, nervous energy. At one point you were positive someone threw a snowball at the side of the cabin, but you didn't find any footprints when you looked out the window and it only happened once.  You pretended you didn’t hear anything other than the wind whistling through the cracks in the door frame and whipping the tarps that covered the broken window. By the time the sun’s rays were breaking through the thick trees, you were practically hoping for the knock at the door to come again or someone to  _ actually  _ throw a snowball, just to prove you weren’t hearing things, that you weren’t going crazy.  That all the bullshit with The Order wasn’t getting to your head. That they weren’t  _ winning _ .  

 

You weren’t sure how long you were staring into the dying fire, stabbing at the remaining embers still glowing with an old-as-dirt wrought iron poker, but you hadn’t slept a wink and your dominant hand had started cramping long before midnight, caused by the death grip you had on your firearm, no doubt.  Maybe you were paranoid, maybe you were scared, maybe things were getting entirely too out of hand and you weren’t sure you could handle someone else getting hurt because of you. Because of your last name, because of what you were. This all felt eerily familiar and you didn’t want history to repeat itself.

 

The fire was barely anything now, but you were too transfixed by the sparks that emitted every time you stabbed a burning coal (probably with a little more force than necessary) to actually pick yourself up off the floor and put more wood in the stove.  Or maybe you were too scared to walk out the front door.  _ Scratch that _ .  You were definitely too scared to walk out the front door.

 

You were also too far inside your own head that neither you, nor the wolf, managed to notice when Shapiro exited your room.

 

A single word, an innocent question,

 

“Coffee?”

 

And with a deep  _ bark _ , you were suddenly staring down the barrel of your gun, finger hovering less than a hair's width from the trigger, sights aimed at the center of Shapiro’s forehead, less than four feet in front of you, the world tinted red and blurred at the edges.  Your chest was heaving, your entire frame was shaking, your teeth were bared, you could feel the wolf barely containing herself behind your human barrier. Shapiro had her hands raised above her head, eyes wide. You could hear her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ , Nicole!”

 

It didn’t take you more than a second to switch from predator to kicked puppy.  Recognition flitted across your face and before you knew it, everything was back to its original color, the wolf was backing off, your canines weren’t ripping through your gums, and you found yourself stumbling over a apology; as if one could simply apologize for almost shooting one of their best friends between the eyes.

 

But in Shapiro fashion, she practically waved it off with a deep breath and an exhaled, “don’t worry about it, just...gimme that thing before you-”  You actually felt the color drain from your face. You couldn’t let her finish her thought, too afraid of what she thought you were going to do - what you were about to do.  Without anymore preamble, you removed the clip from your sidearm, emptied the single bullet from the chamber, and nearly threw the gun and it’s pieces into Shapiro’s hands. She simply walked over to the counter and placed the pieces on the cheap surface, not bothering them with a second glance.  “So, ignoring the wolf-shaped elephant in the room...how about that coffee?” Shapiro was already across the kitchen and pulling out the instant coffee and a pot by the time your brain caught up to her words and you were nodding your approval and following her into the small kitchen.

 

It wasn’t until the both of you had had a second to calm down, took a couple deep breaths, and poured yourselves a cup to the brim of boiling water, that you actually said anything.

 

“Last night...did you um...did you happen to hear anything... _ weird, or unusual _ ?”

 

Shapiro grabbed your only metal spoon from the sink and used it to scoop two spoonfuls of instant coffee into her cup, along with a spoonful of sugar.  As she started to stir the contents in her mug, she replied, “I’m afraid to ask what you mean by weird and unusual...If you mean, did I hear any loud wolf sex, or... _ whatever _ , then no, you’re in the clear.  I slept like a rock. Your bed is  _ so  _ much better than that lumpy ass couch.”

 

_ Not  _ the response you were expecting, not even in the slightest.

 

“What?   _ No _ , nothing like  _ that _ , you perv.”  You were a little mortified and tried to hide it by snatching the spoon from Shapiro’s grasp while she was still stirring.  Under your breath, you muttered, “but I guess I’m glad at least one of us got some sleep,” as you added two spoonfuls of instant coffee to your hot water and began to stir, surpassing the sugar completely, hoping the bitter taste of a black coffee would wake you up more.

 

Shapiro raised her hands defensively, mug still cupped in one.  “Hey, I don’t know how you get during a full moon. I studied criminal justice in college, not lycanthropy.”  Leaning back in her chair, Shapiro took a small sip of her coffee and crossed her arms over her chest just as the beginnings of a light blush bloomed over your usually pale cheeks.

 

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Hilarious, but irrelevant...and has nothing to do with the full moon, for the most part,” in response, all the while trying to avoid Shapiro’s gaze by staring intently into the dark brown liquid swirling in your mug.  “-- I meant like,  _ knocking _ ...or anything…”

 

“Okay, don’t really need to know about your  _ mating schedule,  _ Haughtpants-”

 

Mildly annoyed, you placed the spoon forcefully back onto the table, cupped your hands around your mug, and stood up with the intention of going to sit back in front of the fire.  “I don’t have a ‘ _ mating schedule _ ’, Jesus.  Just forget I said anything.”

 

With a small smirk, Shapiro leaned forward in her chair and set her mug down on the table in front of her, giving you her seemingly undivided attention.  You ignored her and continued walking, but she sighed when you reached the couch and spoke up. “No, okay, I’m sorry.  _ Knocking _ , you said?  What d’you mean?”  You paused mid stride and turned back to see Shapiro watching you, all previous indication that she had been joking absent from her features.  The wolf was egging you on. She wanted you to tell her, tell  _ someone _ .  Get it off your chest.

 

“Like,  _ knocking _ …” you vaguely gestured behind you, towards the front of the cabin, “on the front door.”

 

“No,” Shapiro frowned, her eyebrows coming together to form deep wrinkles in her forehead.  “I didn’t hear anything...why?”

 

“Never mind,” you shook your head, defeated, and took a seat on the arm of the loveseat closest to your company.  Maybe you actually  _ were  _ going crazy.  “I probably just...I don’t know.”

 

“Did someone knock on the door last night?”  Shapiro asked, her voice wavering slightly. She took a sip of her coffee to cover the minimal quiver, but you and the wolf heard it.  It wasn’t something you could miss.

 

You shrugged and took a sip from your mug, still cupped between your palms.  “I  _ thought  _ someone knocked on the door.  There was no one there though.”

 

After nearly choking on the coffee she was trying to swallow, Shapiro managed to get out a high pitched, “you answered it?!”

 

“What else was I supposed to do?”

 

Shapiro raised an eyebrow, like the answer was obvious.  “Um, ignore it and pretend like it didn’t happen?”

 

“And let someone break in and kill us both?”  You asked sarcastically. Shapiro just shrugged in response.  As the silence stretched on, the both of you sipped at your coffees, your eyes trained solely on the ground, hers on the dark stains covering the wood of the table.

 

“I don’t know what’s worse: The fact that someone knocked on the door in the first place, or that there was no one there when you answered it…”  Shapiro chimed in with a shudder.

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Well, I’m significantly creeped the fuck out, thanks for that.  Dolls is supposed to be here soon so I can pick up on patrols, but there’s no way in hell or Mordor I’m going out there by myself.”  Standing up from the table, Shapiro gripped her mug in both hands and promptly shuffled out of the kitchen, shutting herself in the bathroom, leaving you and the wolf alone again.

 

After finishing your coffee, you immediately poured yourself another cup and decided it would probably be beneficial if your human companions didn’t freeze to death.  You had to hype yourself up, but eventually you forced yourself to walk out to the wood pile in the back, using the wolf’s senses as a lookout while you carried in a few armfuls of the wood Doc chopped.  Shapiro was still in the bathroom when you finished, the shower running.

 

You had just started to relax.  You had a fire roaring by the time the water shut off in the bathroom and the previously building anxiety in your gut from the night before didn’t seem like it was crippling anymore.  Everything was all fine and dandy until three knocks reverberated through the front door of the cabin and sent your heart to your feet. In a moment of panic, you more or less dove over the back of the couch to get to the kitchen counter where the pieces of your sidearm still laid.  You only managed to get the single bullet back in the chamber before Shapiro burst from the bathroom with a primal battle cry, her uniform shirt only half buttoned, hair still wet from the shower, pants halfway up her thighs, and the plunger from behind the toilet raised high above her head, clutched in both hands.

 

That was the exact moment Dolls chose to enter the cabin, an eyebrow raised to his hairline as he took in the scene in front of him.  Only then did the wolf pick up the familiar scent of butane that followed him everywhere and you immediately relaxed, suddenly feeling the effects of the all-nighter you pulled, like the weight of the world promptly fell onto your shoulders.

 

“Rough night?”  Dolls asked, amusement evident in his tone.

 

“Something like that,” you huffed, putting your gun back on the counter and leaning your back against the edge.  You crossed your arms over your chest as a way to shield yourself. Not from Dolls, exactly, but your heart felt like it was working overtime and your body was thrumming with what you hoped was the wolf’s energy and not terror and you were trying to feel less  _ exposed _ .

 

Shapiro seemed like she calmed down a lot faster than you.  She was waving the plunger at Dolls with one hand and the other on her cocked hip, when you tuned back into what they were saying.  “This is  _ not  _ funny, Xavier, and just so you know, I’m not going out there when Unidentified Creepy Bastards are poking around this place like it’s a damn target for the crazy.  I’ll keep watch from the front window and walk the perimeter while you two are down in the vault, but I’m  _ not  _ going further than the treeline.”

 

Dolls didn’t even question her.  All she got was a nod and a questioning look at the plunger still pointed in his direction, to which she acknowledged by swinging onto her shoulder before she turned on her heel and sauntered back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

 

“While she does... _ whatever _ , mind if we speak privately for a minute?”  He spoke quietly enough that Shapiro wouldn’t have been able to hear him from the bathroom and your guard immediately went up.  You didn’t bother trying to speak and simply nodded your head in the direction of the vault.

 

You followed him down the stairs after shutting the door behind you.  He already had his official-looking tablet in hand, scrolling through pages of what looked to be a pdf document.

 

“So, I don’t want you to freak out-”

 

You shoved your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants and scoffed.  “You know, usually when you start a ‘ _ private conversation _ ’ with  _ that,  _ the other person is bound to start freaking out.”

 

With a single nod, Dolls continued, “right…  Then, how about I ask if you want the bad news first or the slightly bad _ der _ news…”

 

_ Perfect _ , you thought,  _ just what you needed _ .

 

“ _ Gee _ , I don’t know...start with the bad, I guess.”  You started shuffling nervously from foot to foot.

 

“Wynonna texted me last night from the hospital-”

 

Your entire body froze and the wolf let out a low whimper.  This was going to be bad. So many possible scenarios flew through your mind within a split second.  What if Waverly didn’t remember anything. What if the hypothermia was more severe than you thought. What if she still didn’t know who Wynonna was, who  _ she  _ was.  “What?  Is Waverly okay?!”

 

“Waverly is fine,  _ relax _ .”  And you did, immediately.  Your fists unclenched, the wolf calmed down.  And then he continued, “But she mentioned a  _ ‘Bobo’  _ while she was still a little confused.  Wynonna wanted me to look into the name, so we looked through Waverly’s research, which was quite impressive actually-”

 

“Did you find anything?  Is that who took her??”

 

“Haught.”

 

You were getting ahead of yourself again.  “Sorry…”

 

“Yes and yes.  Bobo’s real name is Robert Svane.  And yes,  _ that  _ Robert Svane.  Waverly managed to look more into his clan of Hunters and apparently they call themselves  _ The Revenants _ .  There are 77 of them, not including Juan Carlos who has been MIA for more than a decade.  We have reason to believe Svane and seven of his henchmen were the ones who took Waverly. Why?  I’m guessing as leverage.” Your heart sunk. They wanted  _ you _ .  For testing, for torturing, for who knew what.

 

“To get to me...it  _ was  _ a trap, but Waverly must have gotten away somehow.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“That’s what I was afraid of...you guys are risking your lives just knowing my  _ name _ .  What the hell could be the _badder_ news?!”  Dolls sighed and shoved his tablet in your direction, you accepted it cautiously, afraid of what might be on it.  But the pdf open on the screen was just a bunch of scientific jargon that you didn’t understand at all. “Dolls, I don’t-”

 

He stuffed his hands deep in his pocket as he explained, “On the left are the test results from the blood from the cabin.  It’s all from the same body, so that made things easier. The table on the right shows results from the last test we did on  _ your  _ blood when we were trying to make sure there weren’t anymore toxins flowing through it.  We ran the mystery blood through every database Jeremy could get into to try and find a DNA match and though we didn’t find one...we found something else - - Nicole, we have reason to believe the blood came from your brother.  Ewan was telling the truth.”

* * *

 

**January 1, 2018**

**10:12 AM - 9 Hours until the ‘Wolf Moon’**

**Wynonna, Purgatory Medical Center**

 

You were never a fan of hospitals.  They gave you the heebie jeebies and you tended to avoid them like the plague, if you could help it.  There was something about the way the fluorescent lights flickered at the end of long, empty hallways or how none of the vending machines ever seemed to take your bills, no matter how crisp.  How the air flowing through the building never felt right - always too hot or too cold, too stuffy - recycled. How someone was always dying or sick or hurt - someone’s loved one, their  _ family _ .

 

But, sometimes you couldn’t help it and sometimes you needed to be there for your sister, a friend, or your...Haught, and you sucked it up and you were there for them.  No matter how much the hair at the back of your neck prickled everytime you walked through the front doors. No matter how many memories flashed through your mind at the image of the bright red, neon  _ ‘Emergency’  _ at the entrance of the ambulance bay.

 

Waverly needed you and nothing that crawled out of the depths of hell could keep you from being at her bedside.

 

She was doing better.  She was even cleared to be discharged as soon as the doctor looked her over one more time and she signed the release papers.  She knew who you were. She knew who  _ she  _ was.  And annoyingly enough, her only concern seemed to be whether or not Nicole had someone to sit with during the full moon.

 

You tried to tell her that  _ Nicole  _ would be fine.  You weren’t entirely sure how the whole wolf thing worked, but, once upon a time, Nicole had explained it as kind of like going to sleep.  At least, that’s how it was while the wolf was in charge.

 

Honestly, it sounded like a damn vacation.  Especially now. You’d kill for a proper nap.

 

Waverly was persistent, she always was.

 

And she  _ always  _ got what she wanted.

 

You tried to tell her it wasn’t a good idea, that she should be resting, that there was a bed in town with her name on it.  You even offered to get a suite at the Wainwright for a few days. When that didn’t work, you changed tactics, trying to explain to her that a full moon change was a lot different than any other change, that Nicole wouldn’t be in there, at least not until daybreak - and probably sans clothing.

 

Waverly fought you on it though and came back with an argument you were surprised didn’t have a powerpoint presentation attached to it with pie charts and diagrams.

 

She didn’t want Haught to be alone- the  _ wolf  _ to be alone.  You tried to tell her that was why Dolls was there and that Shapiro was staying too.  You even tried to persuade her to hang onto your phone for updates, but she wasn’t having it.  She wanted to be there, if only as another warm body in the room.

 

One look - the one with those  _ eyes  _ \- and suddenly papers were signed, clothes were changed, and you found yourself behind the wheel of the truck Dolls brought you the night before, Waverly strapped into the passenger seat, wrapped in a blanket and Nicole’s jacket zipped up to her chin.

 

She even had the  _ audacity  _ to demand you pick up take out while you were in town, because “ _surly Nicole could eat…_ ” and “ _hospital food sucks balls, Wy_ ”.  You couldn’t really argue - Nicole was eating for two and you never heard about hospital cafeteria food being anything worth calling home about, not to mention you hadn’t been to the Dragon Wok in fucking forever and their egg rolls were to die for.

* * *

 

**January 1, 2018**

**5:18 PM - 2 Hours until the ‘Wolf Moon’**

**Waverly, The Cabin**

 

The second you and Wynonna walked through the door of Nicole’s cabin, you noticed a palpable stiffness to the air.  Upon your arrival, Nicole, who had previously been attempting to “casually” lounge on the loveseat with an iPad in her lap, jumped to her feet, the tablet falling, forgotten, to the floor.  You watched her, your arms full of take out bags, as she caught herself mid-step, mouth slightly open as if a string of words were waiting on the tip of her tongue for the smallest opening before throwing themselves out into the air between you, but just before you thought they would surly escape past her lips, she caught them, her bottom lip between her teeth as if the words needed a literal language barrier.  Your eyes pulled themselves away from the movement, up to the red bulb of her nose, up the bridge, and pausing at her eyes, usually so bright and eager, now red-rimmed, slightly puffy, and full of a mixture of contradicting emotions. She was watching you intently, almost to the point that it made your skin itch, but not in a way that was uncomfortable, in fact, it had the opposite effect, but you couldn’t come up with a reason as to why.  You raised an eyebrow at her, desperate for her to say something, anything, to tell you what was on her mind. And she almost did, her mouth opened once again, those words desperate for release, but she clamped her mouth shut before they had a chance and she shook her head as her eyes dropped to stare at the floor. Without words, she more or less told you to drop it and it took everything in you not to beg her to just say it. Even if it was a simple apology, at least you’d be able to tell her to stop apologizing because nothing that happened was  _ her  _ fault.

 

You even opened your mouth to tell her just that, but Wynonna pushed herself through the open doorway to shoulder past you with an armful of her own take out bags, yelling out over her shoulder.

 

“I hope you guys are hungry, we got enough food for an army.”

 

Only then did you register Dolls in the kitchen, sipping out of his ‘X’ mug, and Shapiro on the floor in front of the wood burning stove, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she prodded the burning wood.  Your eyes found themselves back on Nicole after a quick look around the room, but only for a second before you shut the door Wynonna left open and forced yourself to follow her path into the kitchen where she was already digging into a box of kung pao chicken.  You made sure to pass out the remaining take out containers when it was evident Wynonna wasn’t going to, leaving yours for last.

 

Dinner was silent, save for Wynonna’s interruption when she gracelessly apologized to Nicole for the way she acted earlier (whatever that meant, you made a mental not to ask her about it later), noodles slipping down her chin mid-sentence.  Nicole waved it off with a glance in your direction that you tried not to put too much thought into.

 

It was maybe an hour before the full moon when Nicole left the four of you to go down into the vault with an extra set of clothes and a blanket, wishing everyone a goodnight.  Wynonna followed shortly after, you assumed to lock the cage behind Nicole. When she didn’t come back upstairs after awhile, you decided to grab your laptop and research material and head down for yourself, but as soon as you opened the door to the vault steps, you heard hushed whispers, too out of range for you to make out.  Your curiosity nearly got the better of you, but you managed to hold yourself back enough to remain at the top of the steps until the whispers stopped and you heard the clank of Wynonna’s boot buckles against the leather as she made her way to the stairs and took them two at a time before she was pushing past you into the living room with a smirk and a wink thrown over her shoulder that you ignored.

 

You eagerly resumed your descent now that the risk of eavesdropping was out of the way, only to find yourself face to face with a completely different issue: A nearly naked Nicole Haught, all pale skin and toned muscle, and no pants, no shirt, no shoes - a lot of problems.  None of which included the adorable rush of heat that spread like wildfire through the California brush across her chest, up her neck, and didn’t stop until it reached the tip of her ears, or the way she struggled to hold up her previously discarded shirt to her chest and crossed her legs to prevent you from seeing anything more than you already had.

 

It took a bit longer than necessary, but Nicole finally found her voice enough to squeak out a stuttered, “W-what are you doing?!”

 

To which you replied, with the straightest face you could muster, “I’m playing chess,” only for Nicole to watch you with a blank stare, unblinking and slightly mortified.  You rolled your eyes. “I’m sitting down here with you, what does it look like I’m doing...”

 

“Wha-  _ no _ , you don’t have to do that, I’m-”

 

She cut herself off when you ignored her in favor of plopping yourself down in the middle of the floor and opened your laptop.  Nicole simply sighed, relenting.

 

“Could you at least turn around?”  You found it a bit childish, you were both adults here, but huffed out a  _ ‘fine’  _ and turned around to face the opposite wall anyway and told yourself you weren’t upset over it.  Eventually, at Nicole’s quiet ' _okay_ ', you turned back around to find her wrapped up in an over sized blanket, her clothes folded and placed just outside the cage door she was sitting in front of, and fidgeting.  She kept picking at her thumb nail and bouncing her knee under the fabric of the blanket and it was  _ distracting _ .  You weren’t sure how well it was at distracting her though because she started rambling not long after.

 

“This one feels different,” she whispered, “I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just-”

 

“Different.”  You wanted to tell her your research on lycans and werewolves alike led you to a few conclusions as to why this full moon might be "different" than the others, but you weren’t sure how Nicole would take it.  She clearly didn’t know what happened when she watched you kill Ewan, how her eyes went from their familiar brown to a raging red within seconds. You were midway through weighing the pros and cons of telling her when a pained gasp escaped Nicole’s mouth and she nearly doubled over, a sheen of sweat forming over her forehead.  Her jaw was clamped so hard, you thought maybe she was at risk of chipping a tooth, and she had her eyes shut so tight she was most definitely seeing stars.

 

You didn’t want to break the silence, suddenly finding the researcher part of you completely transfixed with the whole transformation progress and how completely unlike the other times you watched Nicole change it was, but the part of you that was telling you Nicole was probably terrified and in a whole lot of pain, started singing low, under your breath so you didn’t disturb Nicole’s concentration.

 

“ _ When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high, and don’t be afraid of the dark.  At the end of a storm, there’s a golden sky, and the sweet silver song of a lark. _ ”  It was a song you remembered your mother singing to you late at night when Ward was passed out on the couch, a song Wynonna started singing to you whenever Mama and Ward started arguing in the kitchen to drown out the noise of glass shattering through the floorboards, or after Mama left and Ward drank too much, or after the bad men took Willa.  A song Wynonna sang to you after Curtis died, before she left again, when she was barely hanging on herself. It was a song you knew every word to. “ _ Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain, though your dreams be tossed- _ ”

 

“W-what is that- what are you doing?”  Nicole’s voice was strained, slightly gravelly, and still in pain.  She was on her hands and knees now, head in her hands, panting. The blanket was still covering her body.

 

“Sorry, I can stop…”  You weren’t offended that she wanted you to stop singing, she didn’t say it with any malice, you figured she would just rather do her thing in silence and that was fine with you, but then she surprised you.

 

“ **_No_ ** .  Please, keep going...she likes it...we-  _ I _ ...I like it,” she nearly begged, as her back arched further towards the ceiling and she muttered a single,  _ ‘fuck’ _ .

 

“Oh, okay.”  You cleared your throat before picking up where you left off, “ _ -though your dreams be tossed and blown.  Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you’ll never walk alone.  You’ll never walk alone. _ ”  You tried not to pay attention to the sound of Nicole’s bones breaking and the pained cries she tried to muffle afterward.  You continued singing, whether she was even listening still, or not. “ _ Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you’ll never walk alone.  You’ll never walk alone. _ ”  When you finished, you started again, and repeated the process until Nicole’s body bent and broke and morphed into a wolf that you  _ swore  _ was larger and somehow more beautiful than the one you saw Nicole transform into right in front of your eyes, not days before.

 

This time when the wolf’s eyes turned red, it was only for a matter of minutes and there was no malicious intent or anger behind them.  They were red one minute, staring into you with all the intensity of a protector, a lover, a  _ something _ , and then they were back to the honey brown color you were used to, even if there was no trace of Nicole in them.  You watched the wolf watch you for what felt like forever before you broke the silence.

 

“She doesn’t know.”  The wolf huffed what you took as a  _ ‘no’ _ .  “I had a lot of time to do some research...the day I shot-  _ killed  _ Ewan, her eyes turned red.  I don’t even think she noticed, but _I_ did.  So, I researched it...she wasn’t turned, was she.  She’s a born wolf, well, half-wolf, I guess,  _ and  _ a true alpha.  But you already knew that, didn’t you.”  The wolf’s only answer came in the form of a bowed head and a whine.  “I’m coming in.”

 

The wolf looked slightly alarmed, but she didn’t try to stop you when you abandoned your laptop to punch in the code that opened the door to the cage.  She looked even more shocked that you actually knew the code.  The locks slid out of place easily and you walked through the door without fear. The wolf was well taller than your head now, but she laid at your feet as soon as you stepped into the cage.  You left the cage open as you slowly and deliberately walked further into the enclosure to sit against the back wall. As soon as you sat down, you stretched your legs out and patted your thighs, the wolf’s ears perking up at the sudden sound, but she army-crawled over to you anyway and you let her sniff your hand before pulling her head into your lap while you scratched behind her ears and ran your fingers through her hair.  She was practically putty in your hands.

 

“You should tell her,” you whispered.  The wolf only nodded.

 

You told the wolf a story about a small, lonely girl and she eventually fell asleep to tales of long ago, of a mother and a father who left, of a sister who left, of another sister who had no choice but to leave, and about a new family, not by blood, but found through unusual circumstances.  It didn’t take long for you to follow suit, and after a little maneuvering, you found yourself drifting off to dreams of running through the forest, the wind blowing through your hair, jumping over rivers, pouncing through tall grass, chasing rabbits...

* * *

 

**January 2, 2018**

**6:40 AM - 11 Hours after the ‘Wolf Moon’**

**Nicole, The Cabin**

 

You woke up feeling different.  Not a bad different, just _different_.

 

The room was empty, a blanket was draped over your naked body (that smelled like a mixture of dog and Waverly, which you didn’t  _ hate _ ) and a steaming mug of coffee just inches from your nose.  Waverly was nowhere to be seen, the cabin was quiet, save for a single engine running out front that you assumed was Dolls, ready to leave for the airport.  You had agreed to a planned vacation back home to visit your sister and her family, Dolls actually suggested it and you had to admit, you needed the break. A  _ real  _ break this time.  Away from work, not just wolf stuff.

 

You drank your coffee as you dressed and folded up the blanket from the night before, only heading upstairs when Dolls knocked on the vault door to tell you he was ready when you were.

 

After a hot shower to ease your aching muscles and free your mind, you packed a duffel bag of clothes and a few books, grabbed your phone and charger from where you left them stashed in your dresser drawer, and found another cup of coffee waiting for you in Dolls’ hand where he stood by the front door.

 

On the road, Dolls mentioned the Earps and Shapiro had the same idea as you; they were all getting away for a little while, even Dolls agreed to a couple days off.  They were bringing in some flatfooters from the town’s police department to fill in where needed.

 

Then he mentioned The Order and your brother and you had to swallow your anger because, frankly, you were too exhausted to do much about it.  Dolls was on your side, he was willing to look further into the clan, if it meant you’d get some peace of mind and revenge for your family, and not just your blood family.  Then and there, the two of you made a pact.  This was your problem.  There was no use bringing the Earps into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be REAL fun...but anyway, 
> 
> I LOVE READING AND REREADING ALL OF YOUR COMMENTS AND THEORIES THEY’RE VERY HELPFUL WHEN IN NEED OF MOTIVATION / INSPIRATION OK THANK YOU SO MUCH BYE (also if you ever want to discuss your theories or whatnot and get vague/non-spoilery answers in response, feel free to leave me a message on tumblr or something)


	14. chicago is cold in january

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole takes a much needed vacation and makes quite a few self(?) discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to all Nicole’s POV in this one.
> 
> (It’s pronounced Ah-na as opposed to Ann-nuh (if that makes sense)...you’ll know what I mean when you get to it.)

The journey into civilization took a bit longer than expected, but eventually, after taking nearly every mode of transportation known to man because you wanted to feel some semblance of normal after the week you had, you finally found yourself standing outside the door to your sister’s quiet Chicago suburban home.  It only occurred to you as your fist was centimeters from the oak stained wood, when you happened to catch the position of the hour and minute hands on your watch, that it was nearing midnight on a weekday. You were sure your sister and her husband had work in the morning, the kids were probably still out of school, on break for the holidays, but you assumed it was way past their bedtime.  If you knocked, the dogs would most likely go nuts, waking the entire house, leaving everyone less than thrilled about your arrival...but on the other hand, you were exhausted. Your shoes were soaked through with slush from the ground and squelched uncomfortably every time you took a step, your cheeks stung from the wind whipping ice and snow at them, you were pretty sure the ends of your hair had icicles hanging from them where they stuck out from underneath your  _ Purgatory National Park _ beanie, and it didn’t help that your muscles were still sore from the night before.  You leaned forward to rest your forehead against the cold wood of the front door with a soft groan as you adjusted your duffel bag on your shoulder.  Somehow it hadn’t even occurred to you to find a hotel for the night. You weren’t really sure what you were thinking.

 

“ _ You, unfortunately, were not. _ ”  The voice startled you, to say the least.  You jumped, barely managing to hold in a small squeak at the back of your throat.  Your first instinct was to reach for the sidearm on your belt that you clearly did not have with you, but regardless, your hand went to where it was usually kept anyway as you turned around to place your back to the front door, while your eyes wildly scanned the yard and up and down the street.  The voice spoke again, sounding like it was coming from directly behind you, or more accurately, from inside your own head. But it was more than that, it was like a minuscule vibration at the back of your skull. “ _ You really think I would let someone sneak up on us while you are over here self-loathing over your lack of preparations?  Come on Nicole, who do you think I am? _ ”  You knew the question was rhetorical, but it didn’t stop your mind from literally going a mile a minute to try and come up with a logical answer.  And then when you finally resigned to the fact that you were  _ actually  _ going insane, the voice spoke up again.  “ _ Oh, Relax.  It is just  _ me _. _ ”  And then it  _ clicked  _ and the world felt like it tipped 45 degrees on its axis and you had to steady yourself with a hand to the railing on the porch.  You weren’t sure how you knew it was  _ her _ , but the odd familiarity in itself should have been enough.

 

“The w-  _ you _ , you’re the...you can... _ talk _ ?”  You probably looked insane talking to yourself, crazy-eyed and identical in resemblance to a drowned rat, but frankly, you couldn’t care less...the wolf,  _ The Wolf _ , was literally having a conversation with you.  With  _ words _ .  You had so many questions, beginning with how, why, when-.

 

“ _ Yes, I have the ability to commu- _ ”

 

“Since when?!   _ How _ ?!  Do you have a name?”  You found yourself whisper-yelling to the wind as it whipped through the quiet neighborhood, taking your voice with it.  The wolf sighed at your lack of poise and you were startled to find that you actually  _ felt  _ it, more than heard it.

 

“ _ I go by many names. _ ”

 

“Right...makes sense, you’re probably older than-”  _ dirt _ .  You were going to say  **_dirt_ ** .   _ God, Nicole, that’s probably insulting to a literal ancient- _

 

“ _ But you may call me Ana. _ ”

 

“Ana, okay…”  Honestly, you expected something a lot more complicated, but  _ Ana _ ...it fit.  Somehow, when you thought of the wolf, Ana just seemed  _ right _ .

 

“ _ You have many questions.  I can show you the answers, but perhaps you should get inside first. _ ”   _ Good idea _ , you thought. __ “ _ Oh, and Jim is coming down the stairs with a Glock 22.  I would suggest knocking before it is aimed at your face. _ ”

 

Oh... _ oh _ .

 

“ _ What _ ?!”  As the words registered, you turned in a panic, your duffel bag falling to the porch with a loud thump, not keen on getting shot by your brother-in-law/chief of police/previous mentor.  You raised your fist to the door just as a light in the hall turned on, followed by the porch light and the sound of locks sliding open. You could just barely make out an exchange of whispered words, but the two voices were too low and you couldn’t make out what was being said through the thick wood of the door.  Too late to knock, you took a step back just as the door opened and revealed Jim, with his police registered firearm in his right hand, aimed low, wearing a plaid pair of boxers and a white t-shirt, hair unkempt and matted from sleep on one side. And just a step behind him, your sister, a plastic kid-sized baseball bat raised over her head, wide-eyed and a little shocked, a purple robe thrown haphazardly over a tank top and sleep shorts.

 

“Mini Haught?” “ _ Nic _ ?”

 

You grimaced.  It was the middle of the night, you probably scared the absolute shit out of them, and now you felt bad.

 

“Surprise?”  You barely got the word out of your mouth before Hailey was throwing the bat down and pushing Jim out of the way so she could throw herself at you in an attempt to wrap her arms around your shoulders in a hug, despite you still being drenched from the rain.  As a reflex, your first instinct was to tense up. You were still sore, the cold was starting to seep past the wolf’s -  _ Ana’s  _ barriers, and honestly, you just weren’t  _ used  _ to being held or touched, at least not by her.  The last time you hugged your sister was...your parent’s funeral...right after you left in the middle of the prayer.   _ Had it really been that long? _

 

Guilt seeped into the cracks of your heart that never properly healed after you ran from the only family you had left, in an attempt to protect them.  You’d be lying if you said you didn’t tear up when Hailey realized you weren’t hugging her back and only tightened her hold on you. You hadn’t planned on this being an emotional reunion, but you couldn’t deny the hitch in your breath when you finally relaxed into the embrace and wrapped your arms around your sister, allowing your head to rest against her shoulder.  She smelled just like you remembered:  _ home _ , but now with a touch of baby powder and formula - which you weren’t entirely sure about where  _ that  _ was coming from - and... something else slightly familiar, something that brought up memories from your first year with the Chicago Police Department when you had helped deliver a baby on the side of the highway.  The thought slipped away though as Ana chose then to interrupt the moment with a “ _ This is nice... _ ”  Although, you had to agree, and found yourself smiling into the side of Hailey’s neck as your entire body began to warm.

 

“Alright, let’s get you two inside, you’re going to freeze if you stand out here any longer.”  Hailey laughed, but Jim was right. They were standing there in their pajamas, which really weren’t fit for the winter.  Not that your jeans, sweatshirt, and light jacket were any better, but you had other  _ non-human  _ means as well.

 

“ _ Smart man. _ ”  Ana agreed.  You rolled your eyes as you stepped back, out of your sister’s arms, and murmured, ‘ _ shut up _ ’ so low you were sure Hailey nor Jim heard.  Hailey followed Jim into the house and they both waited for you just inside the door and out of the cold as you picked up your duffel from where it fell previously and went to join them.

 

“ _ You know, you do not have to say things out loud for me to hear them.  I can hear you just fine when you say it in your head. _ ”

 

“ **_This is so fucking weird._ ** ”

 

“ _ So is talking to yourself.  Now, stop doing that with your face, you look constipated. _ ”  You hadn’t been aware that you were doing  _ anything  _ with your face, but as soon as you consciously relaxed the muscles in your cheeks, you realized that yes, you were smiling like a complete weirdo with a secret to keep and the subtlety of a dragon in Times Square.

 

Hailey and Jim led you quietly through the foyer, where you politely toed out of your boots, removed your beanie from your head, and left your jacket on a hook by the door, and into the kitchen.  They insisted you take a seat at the table while Jim put the kettle on the stove for tea and Hailey practically swaddled you in the softest blanket you had ever felt. It felt a good kind of weird to have your sister take care of you and if you were being honest, the cold that had seemingly took up residence in your bones seemed to have warmed significantly.  You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation as a whole, despite the spread of warmth through your chest at the gesture.

 

“What’s so funny?” Hailey asked, taking a seat in the empty chair to your left, her own blanket tightly wrapped around her shoulders.

 

“You’re just  _ such  _ a mom.”  Jim snorted and Hailey feigned offence with a mock gasp and a hand to her heart, but she was smiling and her eyes lit up, so it didn’t really have the intended effect she was going for.

 

“Hey, someone has to take the responsibility.  It certainly isn’t this one.” Hailey quipped, hooking her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to the back of Jim’s head as he removed the steaming kettle from the stove top and poured out three mugs full of freshly brewed tea.

 

“She’s pointing at me, isn’t she?”  Hailey immediately dropped her hand back to the table just as Jim went to look back over his shoulder.  You let out an airy chuckle before replying.

 

“Oh, one hundred percent, but I gotta give you props for the tea.”

 

As he turned around, a mug in each hand, Jim was smiling wide.  “ _ Thank _ you!  I knew I always liked you.”  He sent a wink in your direction as he set your mug down in front of you.  You wrapped your hands around it immediately, soaking up as much of the heat as possible.

 

Following Jim with your gaze, you squinted your eyes and tilted your head skeptically.  “Did you though?”

 

Jim shrugged.  “I mean, not when you were kicking my ass straight out of the academy, but I guess you grew on me.”

 

You barked out a laugh and turned to Hailey who had just brought her mug to her lips.  “Hear that, Hailey? I  _ grew  _ on him.”  Hailey snorted into her mug, nearly sending hot tea straight into her lap as she rolled her eyes.

 

“You have that effect on people, it’s annoying.  Way to boost her ego, J. You’re going to give her an even bigger head.”

 

You were smiling into your mug as the conversation died down into a comfortable silence, the only sound coming from Jim as he stirred sugar into his cup.  As the silence stretched on, Ana became more and more comfortable with the people across from you and you couldn’t help when your smile grew impossibly larger.

 

You broke the silence to whisper out into the quiet of the early morning, “I missed this.”

 

“We missed  _ you _ .”  Hailey punctuated her statement by placing her hand over your knee and it came to a surprise to you when you didn’t flinch away from the touch.  If you let yourself, you could cry. Right there in your sister’s kitchen, you could’ve let it all out. You missed her terribly, and yeah that was your fault, but you were there now, after years of keeping yourself at a distance.  Ana even seemed to  _ like  _ them, or she at least liked that  _ you  _ liked them and the fact that they brought you so much joy.

 

The three of you had settled into your respective chairs around the table, silently sipping at your tea and just genuinely enjoying the others company without words.  With the quiet of the house, you could hear the dogs somewhere upstairs, you presumed locked away in your sister’s and Jim’s room, the kids were silent, surely sleeping, but you did pick up on something a little odd and it made you pause with your hand halfway to bringing your tea to your lips again.  No one else seemed to pick up on it, so you figured it was simply your over-sensitive hearing picking up something from outside the walls of the house and chose to ignore it.

 

It wasn’t until Jim set down his mug, turned to you, and started to ask you something that you heard it again, this time clearer, grabbing Ana’s attention.  Your ears pricked up and you tried to focus enough to identify something that you thought should’ve been an obvious sound, but it was so out of place, you thought surely you were mistaken.

 

“Hold on, sorry I don’t mean to interrupt...do you guys have a TV on or something upstairs?”

 

Hailey looked to Jim, shaking her head as Jim shrugged and answered for the both of them, “I don’t think so, why?”

 

“Never mind, I thought I just heard-” you were cut off by the unmistakable wail of a newborn.

 

It only confused you more when Jim jumped out of his chair so quick that he nearly knocked his mug over and exclaimed, “Oh!  I’ve got her. I’ll right back...” seemingly oblivious to your ignorance.

 

As Jim climbed the stairs two at a time, you turned to Hailey, obvious confusion written all over your face.  “A baby?” you asked. She didn’t say anything, suddenly finding a small chip in the wood of her kitchen table the most interesting thing in the world and it was her lack of confirmation that sent a pang straight through your heart and down into your lungs, your breath catching in your throat.

 

You had to clear your throat when just a few minutes later, Jim brought down a tiny bundle of light blue blankets with yellow giraffes on them and asked if you wanted to hold her, your niece.  You opened your mouth to respond, but found yourself speechless at how small she was and how perfect she looked, with hair as fire red as yours, brown eyes wide and curious.

 

When your other niece and your nephew were born, you didn’t allow yourself to hold them, terrified to allow yourself that privilege, terrified to tinge their innocence with the curse living just under your skin.  That same fear was present even now, years later, even after you managed to control it for the most part. Somewhere inside you, you knew you wouldn’t hurt her, you knew  _ Ana  _ wouldn’t hurt her, but there were still the images of the young woman you  _ did  _ hurt floating around at the back of your head - her death had been written down as an animal attack and it was, but the CPD didn’t know that animal was  _ you _ .

 

Ana was strangely quiet through the whole ordeal, but you could feel the pull in your chest, her want to hold the baby and to protect her.  In a way, it was similar to the way she was with you.

 

“It’s okay, Nic.  You can hold her.”  At Hailey’s words, you looked up, hoping the hurt in your eyes wasn’t too obvious, or that the early hours of the morning and your exhaustion masked it somewhat.  You didn’t want to think about all the opportunities she had to tell you she was expecting and you didn’t want to call her out about it in front of Jim, who clearly didn’t know she hadn’t told you.   So instead, you choked out, “what’s her name?” as Jim carefully placed her in your arms.

 

You were distracted by the sense of content coming from Ana and the warmth in your chest, so much so that you didn’t catch on to what Hailey had said at first in response to your question.  It took you nearly a minute, you were sure, before the name came at you like the Maglev, you standing in the middle of the tracks, your feet cemented to the ground.

 

“Rayleigh.”  Your head snapped up so fast you were sure you gave yourself whiplash, or maybe you were just dizzy from the situation as a whole, but Hailey was nodding her head and she had a sad regretful smile on her face, an unsaid apology, as she continued.  “She looks exactly like you did when you were born, even if she has Jim’s nose, she’s strong and stubborn and that  _ hair _ ...the name fit.”

 

You still couldn’t manage words, so you looked down at the bundle in your arms as an excuse to hide the tears building in the corners of your eyes and whispered to your niece while Jim said something about setting up a bed and Hailey took the opportunity to get a bottle ready.  By the time she was finished though, Rayleigh had fallen asleep again, your finger grasped tightly in her tiny fist.

 

“Look at that, who knew mini Haught was a baby whisperer.”  It was Jim who broke the silence and when he bent down to relieve you, Ana nearly cried out in protest.  You had to bite your tongue to prevent any sound from escaping past your lips and if anything happened to make it out, you covered it up by clearing your throat.  “I made up the couch for you for now. There aren’t any sheets on the guest bed upstairs.”

 

You had to tear your eyes away from the baby as Jim tucked her into his chest, but when you responded, you managed a steady voice and what you hoped looked like a grateful smile.  “The couch is perfect. Thanks, Jim.”

 

“Make yourself at home.  If you’re hungry, you can eat whatever you can find.”

 

“I actually think I’m just going to pass out, if that’s ok?”  If Jim caught on to your sudden shift in attitude, he didn’t say anything.

 

“Of course!  We’re just going to head back upstairs and feed her.  You’re good down here by yourself?”

 

“I’ll be fine, thank you.”  The three of you bid each other a goodnight and it wasn’t until the light in the foyer blinked off that you released a labored sigh and eventually removed yourself from your spot at the table to take the three empty mugs to the sink and washed them, just for something to do with your hands.  It didn’t take as long as you would have liked and soon, you were abandoning the sink to go take up residence on the couch, where you found a pillow and a folded blanket on one of the arms.

 

The couch wasn’t as lumpy as you had anticipated, but your thoughts were running rampant and you couldn’t stop twisting and turning long enough to actually fall asleep.  It seemed like as soon as your brain quieted down, the sun was rising and shooting its beams through the light curtains over the windows and into your eyes and then the kids were running down the stairs and all thoughts of sleep were quickly forgotten.  Ana hadn’t said a word the entire rest of the night. Maybe she was letting you stew in your thoughts alone or maybe she just didn’t have anything to say. You knew she felt the betrayal just as much as you did.

 

You put on a fake smile in the bathroom before Hailey made it down the stairs and for breakfast you made waffles with fruit and bacon you found in the freezer for everyone.  You even squeezed fresh orange juice and made coffee. It got your mind off of things and maybe waffles were the only thing you vaguely knew how to make. Turns out following waffle mix box instructions and throwing a cookie sheet full of meat in the oven for 15 or so minutes weren’t very difficult tasks.

 

The kids had a lot to say when they discovered you in the kitchen that morning, and even more to say once they knew you were staying for a bit.  They wanted you to go sledding with them and build snow people in the backyard and then drink so much hot chocolate and eat so many cookies you felt sick, and they made promises to show you their Christmas gifts and everything you never knew you missed because you were too busy hiding.  And if you spent the entire day holed up in your niece and nephew’s rooms playing with Legos and doing puzzles on the floor instead of talking to your sister, you didn’t acknowledge it.

 

The next day went on in pretty much the same way, until it didn’t.

 

You and the kids were playing in the backyard with the dogs, throwing snowballs and making snow forts until the cold was too much for them and you shooed them inside with the promise of hot chocolate and sandwiches for lunch.  The kids were still removing their boots and snow pants while you put the kettle on to boil water. You barely had a few minutes reprieve though before Ana picked up on the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. You followed them with your ears into the foyer and didn’t bother lifting your head when they entered into the kitchen.

 

“You’re avoiding me.”

 

She caught you at the island, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, ten pieces of bread all laid out with five of them in the process of being smothered in creamy peanut butter.

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

_ “Liar _ ,” Ana decided to throw in.

 

**_“Shut up_ ** .”

 

“You are.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“Yes, you are, but I don’t blame you.”  If your eyes could stare holes through solid objects, you’re sure the counter top would have burst into smithereens by that point.  Hailey sighed. “ _ Nic- _ ”

 

“I have to tell you something.  Before you say anything else...”

 

_ “Now?  Really?” _

 

Actually, you had planned on sitting Hailey down after dinner one night and telling her everything Ewan had told you, but now that the thought was in your head,  _ yes _ ...now would have to do, considering the words had already left your mouth in an unfortunate case of word vomit.  She probably thought you were still mad over the fact that she didn’t tell you about Rayleigh, and yeah, you kind of were, but she wasn’t the only one that was keeping a secret.

 

“Okay…”

 

“You should probably sit down.”  She did. Right there, across from you at the island.

 

You spread jelly onto the bread while you told her everything, starting from the beginning, all the while keeping a close ear out for any small feet on the carpeted floor of the living room.  The TV was on so you didn’t bother worrying about the kids overhearing. You told her how you were bit, you told her about your father, about your mother, about your brother and how he really died (you were slightly surprised when she knew of him at all, even though you shouldn’t have been).  You told her about The Order and how you were handling it. You told her about Ana.

 

And after you stress ate the five peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and you just stood there watching your sister for any indication that she had even heard any of that, the only thing that came out of her mouth was a ‘huh…’ as she got up from the bar stool and made her way to the fridge, pulling out a full bottle of red wine, uncorked it like a pro and didn’t even bother grabbing a glass before she gulped down a few mouthfuls like it was water from the tap.  So, it wasn’t your fault when you bristled and your hands balled into fists on the counter top. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but that 100% was not it.

 

“Really, Hailey?”  You scoffed. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but at least I didn’t hide the fact that I was  _ pregnant  _ from my  **_sister_ ** .  I mean, come on, she’s practically the spitting image of me for Christ’s sake.”

 

You should’ve kept your mouth shut, you really should have, but you couldn’t help yourself, and like usual, once you started something, you had to finish it.  But like all Haught’s, so did your sister.

 

“At least I don’t hide from the only family I have left and play in the woods all day.”  Hailey brought the bottle back to her lips and tipped it back while you tried to wrap your head around what just came out of her mouth.  It was a low blow, but maybe that was what she was going for. She probably felt lied to and she didn’t know how else to deal with it.

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

“No?”

 

“That’s my  _ job _ , I don’t really have a choice-”

 

“So quitting the force and moving to an entirely different country wasn’t your choice?  Not using the days off they give you to come home so I can see my sister more than once every few years isn’t your choice?”  You could feel the fire in your gut roaring and it took everything in you to keep your voice calm.

 

“I have to use those days for other things, Hailey…”

 

“ _ Wolf _ things?”  The way she spit out the word ‘wolf’ set you on edge and Ana growled deep in the back of your throat, but still you kept your voice a stoic calm.

 

“Is that a problem?”

 

“It is when you’re avoiding us because of it, Nicole!”  And there it was, the straw that broke the camel’s back, if you will.  Her words felt like a physical blow to your gut and you had to grip hard to the edge of the counter to keep upright.  As she raised the bottle in her hand to her lips for the third time, your voice rang out in a desperate plea for something akin to forgiveness.

 

“Would you rather they be dead because of me?!  Because I’ve killed before, Hailey, and I don’t think I could live with myself if anything happened to those kids because of me.  Or  _ you _ , or Jim, or-”  Your words cut out only as your voice broke and so many tears clouded your vision that your sister was nothing more than a blur in front of you.  Your chest ached and you were uncomfortable, but you couldn’t take the words back now that they were out there. Only after you had finished did your sister finally set the half empty bottle of wine back onto the counter.

 

“Is that why you haven’t… oh,  _ Nicky _ .”  Hailey made to go around the island, probably with the intention of hugging you or something equally as unwanted.  You instinctively backed up as far as you could into the counter at your back, all the while your head shaking back and forth, telling her not to take another step closer no matter how bad your heart or Ana may have needed the contact.

 

It was a weak attempt and she had already halted her advances toward you, but you managed to croak out a quiet, “ _ don’t _ ”.

 

“Nicole,” she pleaded, gentle.  You were the wild animal trapped in a corner ( _ again _ ) and she was the supposed threat only trying to help, but you wouldn’t (or couldn’t) let her.

 

“No, I need to- I’ll be back later.”  It took everything in you, but you made your legs move past your sister and you felt her eyes on you the entire way out the front door.  You didn’t look back and you didn’t bother grabbing your jacket or your boots. She didn’t even try to stop you until the door was already closing and she managed to slip a panicked, “ _ Nicole _ , wait!” out into the cold air just before the door clicked shut.

 

You didn’t really have a plan, you had nowhere to go, so you just started walking and before you even realized it, your phone was pressed to your ear and you were speaking into it.

 

“I need you to say something completely stupid, but oddly helpful in a way that shouldn’t make sense.”

 

“ _ Hi to you too, Haught. _ ”

 

“ _ Wy… _ ” you sighed.

 

“ _ I take it your sister didn’t take the whole Big Bad Wolf thing that well? _ ”

 

“You could say that.”

 

“ _ So, are we talking about it or not talking about it? _ ”

 

“I told her everything.”

 

“ _ Ok, looks like we’re talking about it. _ ”

 

“No.  Wynonna, I told her  _ everything _ .”  There was a long pause on the other line, so long you had to check to make sure you hadn’t accidentally ended the call, but the seconds were still ticking up and there was still a picture of Wynonna’s drooling face staring back at you on the screen.  Then there was a lot of loud shuffling and footsteps and voices you couldn’t make out and then you could hear wind pick up in the background and Wynonna was speaking again.

 

“ _ Even about the- _ ”

 

“Yes...in one way or another.”  She whistled long and low and took another pause.

 

“ _ And then what…? _ ”

 

“And then I left.”  Which sounded completely childish now that you had said it out loud and to another person.

 

“ _ Wait, why?  Did she threaten to call the police or something?  Cuz you kinda are the police. And so is her husband, if I remember correctly... _ ”

 

“No, she didn’t- No.  She was just looking at me with those  _ eyes  _ and I couldn’t- I don’t know.”  You really didn’t know.

 

“ _ Are you spiraling?  You’re not really making any sense here Nicole.  Do I need to drag your ass back to Hell to-? _ ”

 

“No.  No dragging anyone back to anywhere, I just- Just talk to me.”

 

“ _ About what? _ ”

 

“Literally anything: Tell me what you had for breakfast, where are you, what are you looking at, how’s that love life of yours- wait, never mind, not that.  Literally anything but that.”

 

“ _ My love life, huh?  You must really be desperate.  Look, talking isn’t really my thing, I’m more of a drink about it type of person.  As soon as you get back we can crack open the bottle of that shit collecting dust in the bottom drawer of your nightstand.  But you know who just  _ loves  _ talking?  Waverly. Here she is.”   _ She must’ve started handing the phone over halfway through her sentence because there was a lot of rustling hushed whispers and in the middle of it all you heard her yell, clear as day,  _ “Oh, and happy birthday! _ ”

 

“What?  Wynonna,  _ wait _ !”  Except, it wasn’t Wynonna who answered.

 

“ _ Um, hello? _ ”  It was Waverly, and you could picture the crease in her forehead as she said it, confused.  Your heart jumped at the thought of her, at home on the couch, probably with a book in her lap that Wynonna had rudely interrupted her from reading.

 

“Uh...hi.”   _ Wow, what a way with words, Haught. _

 

“ _ Who is this? _ ”

 

“She really just threw the phone at you huh?”  You sighed. Of course she did. That was Wynonna for you.

 

Sometime between the time it took Wynonna to decide to hand the phone to someone else and the time it took you to realize that someone else was Waverly, you had made it back to your sister’s house.  You hadn’t walked that far, barely to the end of the block, before you turned around. But you weren’t ready to go back inside and face her yet, despite the snow seeping into your socks, so you settled for sitting at the end of the driveway, in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of  _ Chicago PD _ sweatpants Hailey let you borrow from Jim.

 

“ _ More or less.  Sorry, your contact name is literally just the pig and full moon emoji…which is like the highest form of love, coming from Wynonna, but it doesn’t help me any. _ ”

 

“Really?  The moon didn’t give it away?”  It took her a few seconds, but that brain of hers was something else and she caught up quick.

 

“ _...Nicole? _ ”

 

“Hi.”

 

“ _ Hey. _ ”  Her tone was breathy and you could’ve sworn she sounded every bit nervous as you felt, but she paused and quickly recovered with, “ _ So, it’s your birthday? _ ”

 

“I guess it is,” you laughed and it was the first time you felt like you could breathe since you left the house.

 

Before you knew it, the sun was dipping below the houses on the opposite side of the street and the two of you had talked through dinner and into the evening.  It wasn’t until Waverly had to pause several times in a row to yawn that you finally called it a night and headed back inside with what felt like a burden of weight lifted from your chest.  You said goodnight with promises of talking again soon, promises you intended to keep because you genuinely enjoyed talking to Waverly about nothing, but seemingly everything at the same time, and the thought made you giddy and warmed something deep inside you.

 

As you walked into the house, your intention was to head straight for the bathroom to brush your teeth and head upstairs to say goodnight to the kids if they weren’t already asleep, but instead, you found yourself face to face with Hailey, changed into her pajamas, her hair up and make up off.  She looked tired. She didn’t let you get very far before she was wrapping her arms around your frame and spewing apologies.

 

“Before you run away again, I need you to know that how I handled that...whole.. _ thing _ ... was  _ completely  _ wrong.”

 

“Hailey, it’s fine-”  You were tired so you tried to stop her from saying whatever sappy shit was about to come out of her mouth, but she let go of you in favor of giving you a look that said she  _ needed  _ to do this, she needed you to hear what she had to say.  It shut you up in an instant and she continued.

 

“No, it’s  _ not  _ fine.  I wasn’t weirded out or disgusted, and I know that was probably how it felt to you, but I just didn’t know how to process it all.  It’s still a lot to process.” She paused. You probably knew more than anyone that it was a hell of a lot to process. Shit, you were  _ still  _ trying to process it all.  “I can see why you would keep something like that from me.  I get it. I mean,  _ fuck _ , I didn’t even tell you I was pregnant, Nicky, and I should have.  I’m your sister, she’s your niece. We  _ named  _ her after you.  I am  _ so  _ sorry. 

I should have been there for you back then.  I should have seen what you were going through, or at least noticed you were going through  _ something _ .  I’m your older sister, that’s kinda my job and I royally screwed that up.  But I know now, and I learn from my mistakes. I’m here, Nic, whenever you need me,  _ for  _ whatever.  Even if that whatever is wolf stuff- No,  _ especially  _ if that whatever is wolf stuff.  I don’t think I understand a lot of it, but I’d be willing to, with some help.”

 

Before your sister could get another word in, you pulled her in for a hug and pretended it wasn’t the first you initiated in years as quiet tears stained both your cheeks.

 

“I didn’t let you see it, that’s not your fault,” you whispered into her hair.  She pulled out of the embrace at your words and shook her head.

 

“But I didn’t pay attention, and that  _ is  _ my fault.”

 

“You didn’t know what to pay attention to, “ you shrugged.  “We both screwed up. I should’ve told you, I’m sorry...”

 

“I’m sorry too.”

 

“No more secrets?”  You asked, ready to spill any amount of beans it would take to get your relationship with your sister back.

 

“None, Peanut.”  She didn’t know it, but the nickname your father gave you coming from her mended a part of you you didn’t know was torn and the relief that spread through your chest was nearly overwhelming.  At the first sight of fresh tears, Hailey smiled up at you and in an attempt to move the conversation on, cleared her throat, “Now, come on, I made popcorn and found M&M’s and skittles from Halloween.”  You made a retching noise at the back of your throat, but didn’t protest further when she grabbed your hand and dragged you into the kitchen behind her.

 

“I hated when Dad used to do that,” you laughed, using your free hand to wipe away any remnants of tears left on your cheeks.

 

“Yeah, but I’m feeling nostalgic, The Mummy is on, and I definitely didn’t leave you a birthday present on the bed in the guest room that you’re not allowed to open until we’ve watched a young Brendan Fraser run through the desert for the 100th time.  Well, I’ll be watching young Brendan Fraser, you can watch Rachel Weisz or whoever.” And disgusting as it was, the two of you watched The Mummy on the couch and ate the entire bowl of popcorn with skittles and M&M’s mixed into it. Every time you grabbed a handful with a little of each, you thought of Friday nights with your dad and Hailey on the couch in the basement, working your way through his collection of DVDs.  You felt a part of yourself that you nearly forgot about start to feel whole again and Ana let you enjoy the moment, just you and Hailey. You both ended up falling asleep before Imhotep took over the villagers though and later (much later), when Jim finally got home from working a double shift at the station downtown, you followed him up the stairs as he carried Hailey to bed, said your goodnights, and collapsed onto the guest room bed, nearly crushing a small, flat box under the weight of your body.  You assumed it was the gift Hailey mentioned and picked it up. The box wasn’t wrapped, just a simple medal box no bigger than your hand, engraved with the initials  _ LC _ .

 

Lily Caine, you assumed.

 

Just thinking her name sent a wave of guilt through your heart and a brick of lead straight to your gut.

 

With shaky hands, you carefully pried the lid of the box open.  Inside was a handwritten note, in Hailey’s perfect script, that read:

 

_ She would have wanted you to have this.  Happy birthday, Nic. _

_ I meant what I said- I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.  We’re your family, we have to stick together. _

_ I love you, _

_ Hailey _

 

You ran your fingers over the words as you read it over and over and over, until you memorized every word and believed them.  Hailey was in your life with the intention of sticking around. She accepted you and she trusted you.

 

If a few tears fell from your eye, only Ana knew anything about it.

 

You removed the note carefully, not wanting to crease it, and placed it on the bed beside you.  Underneath the note was a black velvet bag, cinched at the top with a golden strand of rope. You untied the knot slowly, not entirely sure of what you would find when you reached into the bag.  Your heart was very nearly beating straight out of your chest and you had to remind yourself to  _ breathe, Nicole _ to get a proper amount of oxygen into your lungs.  It proved to be futile though. When you reached your hand inside the bag, you found yourself holding four things: a photograph, a pair of dog tags, what looked like a very old coin, and a pocket-sized leather bound journal with frayed edges and a worn cover.

 

The photograph grabbed your attention first.  The color was faded and it was well worn around the edges, but the picture was clear as day.  You found yourself staring at your family, complete and stuck in a time over two and a half decades in the past.  Your mother was stood with Hailey planted on her hip, the both of them smiling wide, Hailey showing off a gap in between her two front teeth.  Your father stood to her left, in his fatigues, clean-shaven with hair the same auburn shade as yours. He had one of his arms wrapped around your mother’s shoulders, his other hand resting on the shoulder of a young man.  The boy had slight stubble on his chin, and shaggy unkempt hair on his head, no older than 18.

 

Seeing him hurt.  He was so young and happy and he was taken away far too soon, by someone who never had the right.

 

You had to admit though, Ewan was right.  You had the same eyes, the same dimpled grin, the same hair.

 

In his arms laid a small bundle, nearly completely hidden beneath a yellow blanket, but you couldn’t miss the tuft of red hair sticking out if you tried.  Your heart ached for a brother you never knew and a family you only  _ thought  _ you knew.

 

The picture was so worn, it was nearly see-through and through the tears that had built up in your eyes, you noticed black ink on the reverse side of the photo.  Upon flipping it over, you found your mother’s handwriting, scrawled diagonally across the back.

 

_ January 23, 1990 _

_ Lake Michigan, Ry’s 18th _

_ Kade, Lily, Ryan, Hailey, Nicole _

 

And suddenly you had a name to the face you wish you had been given the chance to know.

 

Ryan Haught.

 

You didn’t think you could take much else.  You were exhausted, your heart and your head hurt.  It had been a long day and the night wasn’t faring any better, it seemed.  With a promise to yourself to look closer at the remaining objects left behind by your mother in the morning, you sent off a quick text to Dolls with an attachment of the picture, front and back.

 

[Haught (4:19)]: See if this helps Jeremy at all.

[Haught (4:19)]: Send me what you find.

 

Sleep took over soon after you hit send and honestly, you weren’t surprised when you didn’t wake up until after noon the next day.  And only then, it was because your phone chirped six times in quick succession and you found one text from Dolls, an email notification, and four more texts from an unknown number.  You had half a mind to ignore them all and go back to bed, but last night’s events rushed to the forefront of your mind and you were suddenly wide awake.

 

The text from Dolls was nothing more than a confirmation that he got your messages and would do everything he could to get any information about your brother.  You assumed the email was exactly that and didn’t think that moment was the best time to read through it - you at least needed coffee before falling down  _ that  _ rabbit hole.  The scene of blood pooling into the cracks of the cabin floor was still too fresh, especially now that you knew who it belonged to.

 

The four remaining messages however were something you could easily deal with.

 

_ [Unknown Number (12:43)]: Hey, I hope this isn’t weird, but after yesterday I just thought that maybe it would be easier if I had your number! _

_ [Unknown Number (12:43)]: It’s Waverly by the way! _

_ [Unknown Number (12:43)]: Waverly Earp. _

_ [Unknown Number (12:44)]: Wynonna’s sister. _

 

You laughed.  It was easy and genuine and it bubbled out of you like a shaken soft drink after removing the cap.  It was exactly what you needed.

 

[Nicole Haught (12:47)]: Wynonna has a sister?

 

_ [Waves (12:47)]: Funny. _

 

[Nicole Haught (12:48)]: I know.

[Nicole Haught (12:49)]: Totally not weird, by the way.

 

_ [Waves (12:49)]: You sure? _

 

[Nicole Haught (12:49)]: Positive.

[Nicole Haught (12:51)]: And I wanted to thank you.

[Nicole Haught (12:52)]: For the other day.

 

_ [Waves (12:52)]: Don’t mention it. _

_ [Waves (12:52)]: I had fun talking to you. _

 

[Nic (12:53)]: Yeah?  I had fun talking to you too, Wave.

 

You and Waverly went back and forth all afternoon like teenagers.  She even facetimed you after dinner under the pretense of sore thumbs and tired eyes, which you knew were blatant lies, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.  Back at the cabin, you had watched her work well into the morning hours, sitting in front of a computer screen, typing away frantically, and only calling it quits when she literally couldn’t keep her head up any longer.  Not that you were complaining. You could’ve talked nonsense with her all night. Actually, you almost got away with it, but sometime after your debate about whether egg is pronounced with a long or short ‘e’ and sometime before your disagreement was resolved about whether shooting half of a 5-hour energy would give you two and a half hours of max energy or five hours of half-assed energy, Wynonna showed up.

 

You agreed to disagree about the whole egg thing, but Waverly argued that it literally states on the bottle that if you drink only half, it would result in five hours of half the amount of energy you would get compared to drinking the entire shot.  You knew that, but Waverly got so passionate about arguments she knew she could win that you couldn’t help but feed into it a little bit. The two of you got so into it though, that Wynonna finally had to step in and eventually hung up on you and you didn’t hear back from Waverly until the following afternoon by text, stating that Wynonna hid her phone in the tampon box under the sink.  You may or may not have sent Wynonna a lovely message that simply contained two short words, to which she replied with the middle finger emoji.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the obnoxious wait on this one, I was feeling SUPER unmotivated and I hated literally every version of this chapter I tried to write, so hopefully it’s not almost 8k words of complete shit. I’m not sure when the next update will be up, but I have up to chapter 21 kind of planned out.
> 
> Next chapter, Ana finally reveals some things and we meet a certain ex.
> 
> Come and tell me to get my shit together here: kol-a.tumblr.com or, I made a Twitter specifically for that sort of thing @_gayalien

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment and don't be afraid to leave feedback. Anything is much appreciated. I might not respond to every comment, but I do read every single one.


End file.
